A Ray in the Dark
by ladyrip
Summary: PLOT BUNNY CONTEST ENTRY: Businesswoman Bella Black, suddenly widowed, struggles to rebuild her life. She moves from NYC to Tybee Island, GA. She isn't looking for a relationship, but what happens when bronze hair and green eyes find her? Rate R not NC-17
1. Chapter 1

**ENTRY FOR THE PLOT BUNNY CONTEST**  
**Story Name: A Ray in the Dark**  
**Penname: ladyrip**  
**Rating: T**  
**Word Count (not including header/author's note): 6,786**  
**To see other entries in the Plot Bunny Contest, please visit the following C2:**  
**http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Plot_Bunny_Contest/82048/**

_**A/N:**__ There are two special ladies who need extra special kudos for their beta skills on this one. They shall remain nameless—until the contest is over. But they know who they are… Love you both!_

_Also, thanks to whoever sent in this plot bunny. I had a lot of fun with it; hope you're pleased with my spin on it._

_**Plot Bunny:**_ Bella Black is a tough business woman who knows what she wants and usually how to get it. When she's suddenly left a widow, it throws her off course completely. She's left floundering in the sea of life, struggling to regain her footing.

At the insistence of her best friend, Alice, she moves from New York to Tybee Island, Georgia. She doesn't know what to expect from life anymore, and isn't looking for a new relationship. She just needs to find herself again.

What happens when bronze hair and green eyes find her, instead?

* * *

"Bella? Bella! Come on, honey, get up."

Alice's voice, followed by the swish of metal curtain rings, pierced through my skull, setting off a series of tiny, persistent hammers in my brain. I groaned in protest, but I could tell by the increased number of hammers that she had moved to the second window in my bedroom.

"Look! It's a beautiful day outside!"

I pulled the duvet up over my head. It quickly slid back down to my waist.

"Bella, I know how hard this is for you—"

I glared over my shoulder at her.

"Well, no, actually, I don't."

I sank back down on my pillow.

"But you've got to at least get out of bed," she continued. "And stop drinking so much."

I carefully rolled over and glared at her again. She picked up the empty Tanqueray bottle and the glass that still held a swallow or two of my current poison and deliberately clinked them together, pulling another groan from my tortured skull.

"Al-iss," I whined.

"How full was this bottle when you got started last night?" she asked, not giving up.

I sat up and looked away from her probing eyes. I really had no idea.

It had been a month and a half since the funeral. By the end of week one, the gin-to-tonic ratio was leaning more toward gin. Somewhere between weeks two and three, I decided that a martini would be better. The martinis got dryer as that week progressed until I finally ditched the vermouth and the olives. And possibly sometimes the glass... but I couldn't be sure about that.

"I know you're hurting, honey," she said more softly, "but you can't stop living."

"Why not?" I whispered. "_He_ did." I vaguely felt a tear slip down my cheek. "He left me."

"Oh, Bella," she whispered, and I felt the mattress dip slightly as she sat beside me and wrapped her arms around me.

Tucking my head into the crook of her neck, I allowed her to hug me, wishing that it would make a difference. That it would take _any_ of the pain away. But it didn't. Nothing did. Not even the gin.

"Okay," she finally said, pulling away slightly.

I sat up a little straighter, waiting to hear what she would say next. Not that it would make any difference either.

"Let's get you up and dressed—and showered," she added with a delicate sniff. "And then we're going to pack some bags for you."

"Bags?"

"Yes, bags. You're going away for a while."

I shook my head but quickly stopped; the hammers had started up again.

"I've already arranged everything," Alice continued, pulling me to my feet. She grimaced when she noticed my rumpled clothes. "How long have you been wearing these?" she asked.

I shrugged and looked away again. I felt her hands on my cheeks, gently forcing me to face her.

"It's okay, honey. I know this is hard for you. But I refuse to let you waste away like this."

I knew there was no use in trying to resist her. Alice Brandon was a whirlwind of persuasion and capability when she put her mind to it.

"Alright," I said, "where am I going? And when?"

She smiled brightly—a mild reaction for Alice—and tugged me toward the bathroom. "I'll tell you all about it while you shower."

Before I knew it, the smelly, rumpled clothes were stripped away, and warm water was pelting my naked body, washing away the sweat and tears of who knew how many days past. I watched the water swirl down the drain and wished the hurt would go with it.

"Okay, so I spoke with Max about you taking a leave of absence," Alice said from the other side of the glass wall, "and he was all for it. He just said to make sure you take your Blackberry and your laptop… just in case. And I've already booked your flight to Savannah—"

"Wait!" I interrupted. "No."

"Why not?"

"No, Alice."

"Bella, it's a place to relax. It's sunny, it's beautiful… it's somewhere different, without constant remin—"

"We bought it for—"

"I know you meant it to be a summer get-away, but—"

"We never went there," I finished for her.

A couple of years ago, we had purchased a house on Tybee Island in Georgia, just twenty minutes from Savannah. It needed a little bit of work, but we had gotten it at a great price, and the photos the realtor had sent were gorgeous. The intent had been for him to do the renovations himself; however, we both always seemed too busy to take time off to go down there. So a few months ago, we had hired someone to do the renovations for us so the house would be ready whenever we made time to go. And now…

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my freesia body wash on the bath puff Alice held over the shower wall.

"Wash," she instructed.

Taking the puff from her, I realized that she was right. It was a good place to get away… without feeling completely distanced from him. It was true that we hadn't created any memories there together, so I wouldn't see a hundred and one things every day that reminded me of him. Of what I had lost. But it was also something that we had done together—sort of—so I would still have that connection. And it _was_ beautiful and sunny. He had always been my sun, the light in my life.

"Okay," I said softly.

"What?"

"Okay, I'll go."

Alice bounced once in excitement—again, mild for her—and plowed ahead with her recitation of my plans.

"So like I said, I booked your flight to Savannah for Tuesday morning, and you've got a rental car waiting for you at the airport. You have an ocean view suite at the Ocean Plaza Beach Resort until the renovations on the house are finished. And I'll pack a list of local restaurants and attractions…"

She kept talking while I lathered, rinsed, and then washed and conditioned my hair. I let her voice run over my ears like the water ran over my body. I finally stepped out of the shower when the water began to cool and wrapped the fluffy towel she held out to me around my body. I dried off and pulled on the clothes Alice passed me, not bothering to notice what I was putting on. It really didn't matter.

I only noticed how much time was passing as Alice helped me pack for my trip because the shadows lengthened and the light from outside finally disappeared.

"Okay," she finally said, glancing over the four stuffed suitcases littering my living room floor, "that's enough for today. Let's go get something to eat."

"Isn't Jasper waiting for you?" I asked, hoping to shrug her off.

She just looked at me sadly and said, "He's in Texas this week."

I suddenly remembered that her boyfriend had gone home for his little sister's high school graduation earlier in the week. I had known about it for a while now, but it had slipped my mind. Like so many other things since…

"So let's go get some dinner."

"You go, Alice," I protested. "I'm really tired. I'll just get something here before I go to bed."

She gave me a long look. "Bella, I've seen your fridge and pantry. And I've seen your current idea of dinner." She linked her arm in mine and repeated, "Let's go."

And just like always—forget the fact that I could command an entire room full of editors, steal a cab out from under the savviest New Yorker, bully a reluctant author out of her writer's block, and stare down an angry boss on my worst day—Alice Brandon always managed to get her way when it came to me.

And this was one of my _worst_ worst days.

)ooOoo(

My hotel suite was everything Alice had said it would be. The view of the Atlantic Ocean was magnificent. The king-sized bed was very comfortable but too big. The living room was cozy. There were two bathrooms and two balconies overlooking the beach. There was a refrigerator and microwave, so I could fix simple meals or heat up leftovers in my room. And the wet bar was perfect.

If it weren't for Alice's penchant for doing things all the way, I'd have had a standard room—minus the living room, extra bathroom, fridge and microwave, and wet bar. I was mildly surprised that she hadn't sacrificed luxury for prudence just this once. But she hadn't, and I had access to virtually unlimited booze in my room.

I spent the first three nights in my room, drinking somewhat moderately. After all, it's one thing to drink yourself to oblivion—oh, blessed oblivion—in your own apartment where you (and your overly helpful best friend) are the only one who will see the empty bottles. It's an entirely different thing when the hotel staff will see and know whether or not you get slobbering drunk every night.

The fourth night, I found myself being dragged out of my room to experience some of the nightlife on Tybee Island. Alice had shown up unannounced that morning claiming that Jasper had called with the news that he had decided to stay an extra week with his family. She had decided to take a few days of vacation time and join me in Georgia, ostensibly to experience life in the South and to see my vacation home on the island. But really, she was checking up on me.

I knew this to be true when she emptied the rest of the Tanqueray in the bathroom sink. And then she stopped one of the maids and asked her to take the rest of the bottles with her when she cleaned the room for the day. She said it softly, but I heard it anyway.

I glared at her, wishing I had learned to stand up to her during my years of clawing my way up the ladder in the publishing business. She smiled at me and said, "I'm only looking out for your well-being, Bella," before snaking an arm around my waist and steering me downstairs to the Dolphin Reef restaurant for dinner.

Like my room, the restaurant had an ocean view, and Alice insisted that we sit by the window so we could watch the sunset. We both ordered seafood—she had the Cajun Scallops, and I had the Captain's Platter—and I asked for a glass of Chardonnay. Alice stared at me briefly before ordering a glass of her own.

When the waitress left, I said defiantly, "It's only _one_ glass of wine, Alice."

She nodded briefly then asked me what I'd been doing for the last three days.

"Nothing," I said truthfully. "Just resting in my room."

She hmmed and smoothed her napkin in her lap. "Any idea where we can get a massage around here?"

"No."

"Well, I'll just have to find the concierge and ask," she said with authority, and I knew that tomorrow we would be getting massages… and probably manicures and pedicures, too. I thought of protesting, but it was so much easier just to go along with whatever Alice had planned. After all, she would only be here for a week.

We were silent for a few minutes, sipping our wine, soaking up the last rays of the evening sun, and listening to the waves on the beach outside.

"Have you been out to the house yet?" Alice asked just as the waitress came back with our food.

"No," I answered, not adding that I wasn't ready yet. She would know that without me saying it.

Alice people-watched while she ate, and I picked at my food. Neither of us said anything, and my wine glass was empty before I knew it. The waitress asked if I wanted another, but with Alice glaring at me, I decided to ask for a glass of ice water with lemon. She seemed to approve.

I continued pushing my sautéed seafood around on my enormous plate until a fork—not my own—stabbed one of my shrimp. I looked up to see Alice pop it in her mouth and mmm in pleasure.

"Hey!" I protested.

She smirked and said, "Well, you're obviously not going to eat it, and there's no sense letting such deliciousness go to waste."

I speared two scallops and shoved them in my mouth. "Happy?" I asked around the mouthful of food and gave her the cheesiest smile I could muster.

"Terribly," she simpered, going back to her own plate.

We finished quickly, although I left more on my plate than Alice would have liked. It seemed that my appetite had shrunk lately.

"So, did you look over the list I packed?" Alice asked while we waited for the waitress to bring the change. "What should we do tonight?"

I hadn't even glanced over the list of area attractions Alice had slipped into my bag. And honestly, I didn't want to _do_ anything but go back up to my room and crack open another bottle of Tanqueray. Unfortunately, Alice had already preempted that plan.

"Let's just walk on the beach, Alice," I suggested.

She gave me another of her long looks as she pocketed her change. "I suppose…"

"I'm really not up for much more," I said.

)ooOoo(

We had gone about twenty yards from the restaurant without seeing anyone else on the beach when I stopped suddenly. Alice nearly ran into me, but I heard her gasp as she realized what had stopped me in my tracks.

It was the soft strains of a guitar and a quiet tenor voice singing a song that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

I was suddenly bombarded by a flood of memories, things I hadn't allowed myself to think of or feel since hearing the news that… that he had died. When the hospital called and told me what had happened—that he had been in an accident on one of his jobsites and that he had already been gone when the ambulance got him there—I hadn't believed it. I had insisted on seeing him. It was a wonder I hadn't killed myself in my rush to get to the hospital. But seeing him lying there on the hospital gurney, so still and broken, I hadn't been able to deny it anymore.

But I hadn't been able to think beyond the realization that all of our plans, all of our dreams would never happen. Everything I had lived for, every reason I had for doing anything I did was now gone.

And then in the days leading up to the funeral, there had been so many things to arrange and so much paperwork to sort through and complete that I hadn't had time to breathe much less remember anything of our life together. A life that had ceased to exist.

After the funeral, when things had calmed down and everyone else went back to their own lives, when I had begun to feel…something…again, I had turned to my liquid solace to block out the memories.

But suddenly, taken by surprise, the simple strains of the song that had been _ours_ brought them all back to me, paralyzed me. I barely felt Alice's hand on my arm, barely heard her whisper my name in question. All I could think of were the countless little moments we had shared: our meeting, our courtship, our wedding… holidays and family get-togethers… all the little things that make up a life.

When he sang the bridge and moved into the second chorus, I felt the tears slip down my cheeks, and a sob escaped my lips.

_These are the moments I thank God that I'm alive  
These are the moments I'll remember all my life  
I've got all I've waited for  
And I could not ask for more_

_I could not ask for more than this time together_  
_I could not ask for more than this time with you_  
_Every prayer has been—_

And then the music stopped abruptly.

My eyes focused on the pale, dark-haired musician who was now staring at me and Alice, his fingers resting over the strings of his guitar to silence them.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a voice as soft as velvet.

I sniffled as Alice answered for me, "It's okay; that song just brings back a lot of memories for her."

"I could play something else," he offered as I tried to pull myself together.

"Thanks," Alice said. "It's okay, really." And then to me, "Come on, Bella. Let's go."

She wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me up the beach, away from the guitar player. We had only gone a few feet when my legs gave out on me, and I collapsed to my knees on the sand. The tears came back again, flowing down my cheeks in a steady stream. I couldn't breathe for the sobs that seemed to choke me. My body folded over my legs, and I rocked back and forth, beating my fists into the sand.

"Bella," Alice said.

She, too, had knelt down in the sand and started rubbing my back, trying uselessly to comfort me. Had I been able to speak through the sobs, I could've told her that the only thing that could comfort me now was a bottle of Tanqueray. Maybe two.

"Bella, come on, honey. You've got to get up," Alice said urgently. "Let's go back to the room."

But I couldn't move. All I could do was sob and rock, sob and rock…

And remember…

)ooOoo(

I woke to the gentle clink of silverware on china and the scent of warm syrup.

I pushed my tangled hair out of my face and raised myself up on my elbows, looking around for my uninvited roommate. The other side of the bed appeared to have been slept in, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I carefully slid out of bed, trying to remember how I had gotten there in the first place. I didn't remember coming back, but I also knew—by the lack of hammers in my head—that I hadn't drunk myself into oblivion last night. I wondered how Alice had gotten me up here all by herself.

I pulled on a bathrobe over my—pajamas?—and walked into the living room where I found Alice sitting at the table eating pancakes and sausage drenched in maple syrup.

"How did I get to bed?" I asked.

"Oh, you're up!" Alice greeted me with a smile. "D'you want some breakfast? I'll call room service for you. I would've gotten you something when I ordered mine, but I didn't know when you would wake—"

I held up my hand. "Okay, stop, Alice," I said, sinking onto the couch across from her. I picked up her glass of orange juice and took a long swallow.

"Isn't it great to wake up without a hangover?" she asked.

I threw her a disparaging glance and drank more of her juice.

"So much for a place with no reminders," I murmured.

"Yeah, well, even I couldn't have predicted running into a hot guitar player on the beach," Alice said.

"I don't remember getting back here."

Alice squirmed a little and said, "Um, the hot guitar player carried you up."

"He _what?"_

"Yeah, um, when you…uh…"

"Melted down?" I suggested.

"He came over and asked if he could help." She smirked and added, "I think he felt kind of guilty for making you cry."

"It wasn't his fault, Alice. He didn't know—"

"I know that. He knows it now, too," she assured me.

"_How_ does he know?" I asked.

She squirmed again before admitting, "I told him about… your loss."

"Al-iss!"

"Well, I had to tell him _something_," she said defensively. "And I didn't go into any details about it."

"He was already gone when you put my pajamas—?"

Alice nodded.

I sighed. "Well, I'll probably never see him again, so… I guess it's… whatever."

"True," Alice agreed, "if you stay out of the hotel bar."

"What?"

"He works there a couple nights a week."

I just stared at her.

"That's why he was on the beach. He sometimes hangs out there after his shift and plays his guitar."

"Well, it sounds like you two had a cozy little conversation," I teased.

"He seems like a nice guy," she said with a shrug.

"Mm hmm," was my response. I pushed myself up off the couch and went back to the bedroom. "I hope you brought your swimsuit," I told her. "We're laying on the beach today."

)ooOoo(

The next day while we sat in massage chairs and had our hands and feet pampered and polished, Alice started making plans for the evening.

"So… I did some more checking around, and there's really not much to do around here. I mean, seriously, do you know how difficult it was to even find a salon on the island?" Alice rambled. "Savannah is the place with the night life. And there's some really interesting history. So I thought we'd take in one of the ghost tours."

"A ghost tour, Alice?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun. You know, spooky stories…"

"Absolutely not!" I blinked away a tear that threatened to slip out of the corner of my eye.

I almost laughed at my best friend's crestfallen face. "Oh, Bella, I didn't even think—"

"Don't stress," I said. "My tragedy, not yours."

"Yeah, but—"

"Seriously, Alice. Just drop it." I took a deep breath and asked, "So what else can we do?"

"Umm…"

I had never seen Alice at a loss for words. She was always so self-assured and confident, planning things out like she had her own pocket psychic telling her what would happen next and when. I had to admit, though, there were some things she couldn't see. Like the accident that had taken him away from me….

I took another deep breath. "Obviously, wandering the beach here on the island isn't safe," I said, trying for a little humor and remembering dark hair, pale skin, and a velvet voice. "Why don't we walk around Historic Savannah and see what there is to see?"

"Sounds like a plan!" she enthused, blinking a little too rapidly.

Once I made the initial suggestion, Alice had run with it, insisting that we have dinner at the Lady and Sons, Paula Deen's famous restaurant. I had Googled directions to the restaurant on West Congress Street on my Blackberry. It seemed fairly easy to get to, even though the streets of Savannah were somewhat maze-like.

We got our table quickly and ordered Paula's favorites: the Cornucopia Salad, pan-seared Tilapia over Jasmine rice with crab butter, and Peach BBQ Grouper served over cheddar cheese grit cakes. Although I admit that food is not my forte, I wasn't terribly impressed with the meal. We decided to skip dessert and head over to River Street before it got too much later.

Alice played navigator as we left the restaurant, directing me to turn right on Whitaker and right again on West Congress Lane. I questioned her because we had just gotten off of West Congress.

"Yes, but that was West Congress _Street_," she informed me. "This is West Congress _Lane._"

"We're gonna get lost," I predicted.

We went right on Jefferson Street and left on West Bay Lane. We were almost home free, but I turned too soon, making a right on Montgomery Street instead of West Broad Street. Had I turned on West Broad, we would've ended up on River. Instead we couldn't turn back and had to turn right on Williamson Street.

"I hate one way streets!" I complained. "Alice, we're lost!"

"Well, if we just follow this street, it's sure to put us out somewhere we've already been, and then we can turn back on Bay Street—"

"Okay, okay," I interrupted.

I kept driving and, just before we got back to Jefferson, Alice said, "Stop, Bella!"

I hit the brakes, grateful that there was no one behind us.

"What?" I asked.

She was pointing outside at a window with a sign that said Savannah Smiles Dueling Pianos Saloon.

"Dueling Pianos!" she said excitedly. "That could be fun, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," I conceded. At least it was better than a ghost tour.

So we found a place to park and made our way to the dueling piano saloon. It was nearly packed by the time we got there. The doorman collected the cover charge and told us we were just in time. The bouncer winked at us. There was no one at the pianos yet, so we settled in and ordered a couple of drinks.

Just as the waitress brought Alice her scotch and soda and me my gin and tonic, the audience began to applaud. We turned our attention to the front of the room where the two pianos waited for their players. A gorgeous, leggy blonde stepped up to one of them accompanied by wolf whistles and cat calls. She waved to the audience and blew a kiss to the loudest whistler, the bouncer.

The second piano player stepped up to his instrument. He was tall—at least six feet—and lanky; his hair was a bronze mess, his eyes a piercing green that swept the room, gauging the crowd. I couldn't help but focus on his long, slender fingers as he waved; they reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly.

Out of nowhere, Alice started giggling.

"What is wrong with you, Alice?" I asked.

"That's him, Bella! The 'hot guitar player' from the beach."

I stood, ready to go, but Alice yanked me back into my seat.

"I can't face him," I said.

"It was dark on the beach," she returned. "He probably won't recognize you."

I rolled my eyes at her. "But it was brightly lit in the hotel room, Alice."

"Oh. Right."

"Well, ladies and gents," he said, his velvet voice washing over the crowd, "I'm Edward Cullen, and this is Rosalie Hale," he added, gesturing toward the blonde, "and we'd like to welcome you to Savannah Smiles."

The audience applauded loudly, he continued talking, and I lost track of the whole evening. The crowd around me laughed and cheered as the two pianists traded melodies and harmonies and risqué banter. I couldn't really focus on anything that was said, and while I could appreciate their talent, I don't really remember anything they played.

Before I knew it, the show was over, and it was two o'clock in the morning. The pianos were now deserted again. I glanced around the bar, almost as if I was coming out of a trance. The female pianist, Rosalie, was making her way between the tables to get to the bouncer, a burly guy with dark curls and dimples. Where was the other pianist? The tall one with the velvet voice, who had seen me at one of my lowest moments.

"Alice," I suddenly heard behind me. In a voice of velvet.

I closed my eyes and stifled the urge to groan.

"Hey, Edward," Alice said.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Edward said.

"We didn't really expect to be here," she answered with a chuckle. "We made a wrong turn and ended up on Williamson, and I saw the sign."

"Well, I'm glad you did. Did you enjoy the show?" he asked, looking from Alice to me. He nodded at me in greeting, and I think I grimaced like I had heartburn. I felt my cheeks heat with a blush.

"Yeah, it was fantastic!" Alice praised. "You two are amazing!"

She elbowed me, and I murmured, "Yeah, it was great."

"Oh, Bella, you haven't met Edward yet!" Alice said, smiling.

"Edward Cullen," he said, extending his hand. "It's nice to meet you… Bella?"

I took his hand, feeling my blush intensify. "Yeah, Bella Black." _What must he think of me?_

"You're feeling better?"

I ducked my head and said, "Yes, thanks." I chanced a glance up to see if he was laughing at me. He wasn't. He actually looked concerned about me.

"Good," he said softly.

"So your shift is over?" Alice asked.

Edward rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah. We close at three, so they cut us loose an hour early to wind down."

"Why don't you join us?" Alice invited. "Oh. Unless you have somewhere else—"

"No." He smiled crookedly. "Thanks; I think I will." He glanced at the bar. "Can I get you ladies another drink?"

Alice looked at me then back at him. "I'll have a scotch and soda. Bella?"

"Coke. I'll have a coke."

"No rum to go with it?" Edward asked.

I shook my head. "Just coke, please."

"You got it," he said and disappeared into the crowd.

"Are you okay with this?" Alice asked, laying a hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged. "It's… whatever. Just a drink. And then we'll go back to the hotel, right?"

"Yeah," Alice said, "just a drink, and then we go back to the hotel."

Edward came back then with our drinks and a scotch for himself.

"So, Edward," Alice began, "you're quite the musician, huh?"

He chuckled and shrugged.

"Do you play other instruments, too?"

"Just piano and guitar. I sing a little though."

"Yeah, I remember. Why didn't you sing tonight?" she asked.

"It's all about the pianos here. I usually only sing when I play guitar."

"How long have you played?" I heard myself ask. And I felt myself blush again. _What is wrong with me? I'm thirty-two _and_ a married wo—_

I absently spun my rings around my finger. Although I still wore the golden symbols of our union, the truth was that I was a widow… _not_ a married woman anymore. I swallowed the sob that threatened and focused on what Edward was saying.

"Guitar I started when I was in junior high, and I've played piano for… forever, it seems." He grinned at us and took a sip of his scotch. "My mother thought it was… uh… important for me to be 'cultured.'"

"And now you use your talent to duel rock 'n' roll songs in Savannah."

He and Alice chuckled together; I managed a slight smile.

"Alice," I said. "I'm really tired. Can we—?"

She looked at me, then Edward, then me again before she nodded. "Yeah, um, we should get going, Edward. It's been kind of a long day."

"Okay, well, you ladies be safe driving back to the island. And, uh, maybe I'll see you again, huh?"

"Thanks, Edward. See you around," Alice said, gathering up her purse and slinging back the last of her scotch and soda.

"Thanks for the coke, Edward, and for…"

"No problem." He smiled at me again. "It was really nice to meet you, Bella. Take care."

)ooOoo(

"So, Bella," Alice called from the bathroom where she was gathering her toiletries.

"Yeah?"

She poked her head out of the bathroom door. "Are you ready to go see the house?"

I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Have you even talked to them yet?"

"Uh, yeah, they called yesterday."

"And…?"

I shrugged. "It's finished. I just…"

Alice stared at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

"I just… I don't think…" I took a deep breath. "I don't think I'm ready yet."

She sighed. "You have to go sometime, Bella."

"I know." I scuffed my shoe on the carpet. "And I know you wanted to see it, but—"

"Bella, I was hoping you'd be ready to go there before I left, but if you're not…" She shrugged. "If you're not, then you're not. You don't have to do it for me. Just do it when you're ready."

I nodded. "I will. Just… just not today."

"Okay, honey. When you're ready," she repeated.

Alice finished packing up her toiletries, and we went down to the Dolphin Reef for the breakfast buffet. Over breakfast we decided to spend the morning down at the beach. We kept it light, chatting about nothing in particular, soaking up the soft morning rays.

Her flight was leaving later that afternoon, so we said our goodbyes after lunch. I waved until I couldn't see her rental car anymore, half glad she was leaving, half wishing she could stay.

)ooOoo(

With Alice gone, life slowed down again. My in-room wet bar was still empty. Well, it was always stocked with sodas and bottled water but no liquor. And I realized that Alice was right; getting drunk every night wasn't helping, and I _could_ cope without it.

However, it seemed like there was nothing to do. Without Alice, I wasn't as motivated—or bullied—to find things to do or attractions to see. And although I gave it some thought every morning when I woke up, I still couldn't make myself go see the house.

I spent the next two weeks on the beach or vegging out in my room with the TV. There was really nothing worth watching, but at least it kept me company.

I had made my way through just about every appetizing thing on the room service menu. I wasn't binge eating. And I wasn't trying to drown my sorrow—which was still always there, like a nagging toothache—in food. But with little to do, I began to notice I was eating more than normal. And I began to crave things I normally didn't eat.

That's how I found myself back on US-80 heading off the island—how in the world did _that_ happen?—in search of some grocery store called Kroger. I was craving ice cream. But not just any ice cream. I wanted Häagen Dazs White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle.

The whole time I was driving, I kept telling myself that I couldn't believe I was driving twenty minutes away just for a carton of ice cream. And I was going to be seriously pissed if they didn't have it.

So there I was standing in front of the frozen case, wallowing in my pissed-off-ness because they were, in fact, out of my flavor. And what's more, I didn't even see a tag for it, which meant that they didn't even carry it. What kind of place was this?

I kept staring at the ice cream cartons, trying to decide which flavor would make a satisfactory second choice. I was wavering between Vanilla Swiss Almond and Pralines & Cream.

"Bella?"

I think I jumped a foot and nearly gave myself whiplash spinning around.

"Sorry," Edward said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Hi," I said.

"Hey." He grinned at me, and I couldn't help my blush. "What brings you here?"

I pointed to the ice cream case.

"Ah. Yeah, it's hard to find some things on the island."

"And in Savannah," I said, still pissed about my missing flavor.

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"No White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle."

He nodded solemnly. "So what's it gonna be?"

I sighed and told him my dilemma.

"Hmmm. Well," he said, "just buy both of them."

"Yeah, I guess I could. But I don't want to eat two whole pints."

"So were you planning to eat it now or take it back to your hotel?" he asked.

"Um, I hadn't thought that far ahead," I admitted.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck like he had at the piano bar. "Well, I don't mean to be, uh, out of line or anything, but I live just down the street. And I have a comfortable patio furniture set. And spoons," he added when I still hadn't responded.

I wasn't quite sure _how_ to respond. Was he hitting on me? Or was he just being… um… friendly?

"I'm not trying to… I didn't mean anything by that, Bella. I just thought… um… this way you could, you know, have both flavors. Right away."

"That's really sweet of you, Edward," I finally said.

He smiled briefly. "So… uh… what do you think?"

I shrugged and thought it over. "Well, I guess, we could… uh… share them…" I wanted to crawl into the frozen case to cool the blush on my cheeks.

He smiled again, larger this time. "Do you need anything else here?" he asked.

I shook my head and grabbed the two pints of Häagen Dazs. "What about you?"

Edward hefted his shopping basket and looked through the contents. "Nope. I've got everything."

He followed me to the checkout lines and loaded his groceries directly behind mine. I reached for the little white divider to set between our selections. He took it from me and placed it back along the side of the conveyor.

"I got this," he said.

"Edward, I can't let you—"

"It's just two pints of ice cream, Bella. Please let me."

I finally shrugged and put my bank card back in my purse. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, handing over a small stack of bills to pay for our groceries. He leaned in conspiratorially and confided, "I've gotten a lot of tips lately." And then he winked.

I felt my skin color up again and wanted to faint. I didn't understand what was going on with my body and its responses to this man. He could make me blush with the most innocent comments and gestures. And although I was embarrassed that he had seen me nearly at my worst, I couldn't deny that I felt drawn to him for some inexplicable reason.

)ooOoo(

I followed Edward back to his apartment, which I found out he shared with the bouncer from Savannah Smiles whose name was Emmett McCarty. Emmett was just heading out to pick up his girlfriend, Rosalie, the other piano player at the club. He waved as he took off in a huge Jeep, a broad smile painted across his face.

Edward snagged two spoons and bowls from the kitchen and led me out to the patio in the back. We settled onto the padded chairs and cracked open the pints of ice cream. I spooned out half of the Vanilla Swiss Almond into one bowl while he did the same with the Pralines & Cream and then we swapped bowls.

"So what did you do in New York?" Edward asked after a few bites.

"How did you know—?" I shook my head.

"Alice," we said at the same time.

I took another bite of ice cream and let it melt on my tongue. "I'm an editor at a publishing house," I finally answered.

"Like magazines? Or novels?"

"Novels, mostly."

We each took another bite, and then I asked, "So you tend bar at the Ocean Plaza and you duel pianos at Savannah Smiles. Both evening jobs. What do you do in the daytime?"

"I'm a student at Savannah State," he answered. "They've got a decent music program."

We continued talking about our lives, light conversation, nothing heavy or serious. He was interested in everything I had to say and never pushed too hard about things I didn't want to talk about. He was also very open about himself and candidly answered every question I asked. Before I knew it, it was dinner time and we still hadn't run out of things to talk about.

Edward, who had that night off from both of his jobs, insisted that I stay for dinner. He whipped up a delicious meal of grilled steaks and baked potatoes while I made a tossed salad. Emmett showed up somewhere around dishwashing time and simply raised an eyebrow at us and kept walking to his room.

As I drove back to the hotel an hour later, I couldn't stop thinking about Edward Cullen and what Alice would say when I told her how I had spent my afternoon and evening. I knew that she would tell me it was good that I was breaking out of my isolation and living again.

When I came to the island, I hadn't known what I would find. I hadn't even been looking for anything. But it appeared that something—some_one_—had found me. While I didn't have Alice's gift and couldn't predict what the future might hold, I _could_ see the sun starting to peek over the horizon. It was almost as if I was coming out of a tunnel and I could see dawn breaking in my life. And I finally began to hope for a brighter future.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ I'm not the type to beg for reviews and votes, but you know what to do if you liked this. And let me just say: If you liked it, put it on Story Alert. 'Nuff said? :)_

_Also, just in case you didn't recognize it, the song is "I Could Not Ask for More" by Edwin McCain._


	2. Chapter 2

_Just in case you didn't know, this has evolved into a collab with wuogkat who writes Edward's POV._

_**A/N from wuogkat:** Thanks to LadyRip for allowing me to come along for the ride and to EchoesofTwilight for beta'ing. This chapter follows the same timeline as Ch1, but don't expect that in the future._

**_Music:_**

_"I'll Be" Edwin McCain_

_"I Could Not Ask for More" Edwin McCain_

* * *

Some mornings you wake up and things automatically go your way. On other days it's a struggle to get out of bed. The day that I first saw _her_ started as a struggle. I rolled myself out of bed and barely made it to meet with my advisor on time. Rosalie and I had had a late night at Savannah Smiles because Emmett had a cold and had been unable to work, and the other bouncer, Felix, was disinterested in keeping the more inebriated clientele away from her. I'd had to stay while she spoke to the police regarding the fact that she assaulted one of the customers who crossed the line. Fortunately, Rosalie had a way with the local PD and talked herself out of trouble.

Emmett was furious when we got home. I decided that bringing Rose to our place would be best since the big guy would want to check on her and he was stuck at home. We'd talked for another hour after we got in, leaving me a mere four hours to sleep.

Needless to say, my lesson didn't go well. I was unfocused and sloppy, and for some stupid reason, a love song kept playing on loop in my head and threatened to come out through my fingers on the piano. That would not have gone over well.

I caught myself humming it in the hallway on my way to hit the vending machine. A wall of gray jersey knit stopped me in my tracks as it stepped in front of me. I looked up from my feet to see Tyrone Jackson. He played the trombone in the marching band at Savannah State and was always trying to get me to agree to play in the rhythm section, regardless of the fact that marching band had never been my thing.

"E-man, are you seriously walkin' all up in here hummin' Edwin McCain?" he half-shrieked. "Come on, old man. You have _got_ to stop listenin' to that white-girl crap if you're gonna get a fine piece of Savannah State lovin'."

We'd been over the fact that I wasn't interested in "hooking up" with any of the "hoochies" on campus before. Tyrone wasn't giving up. He'd come up with a new girl every week for the past three years to throw at me, and I'd never found any of them particularly interesting. They were all very nice, intelligent young ladies. However, they were all between the ages of eighteen and twenty and acted like it. Tyrone felt that I should keep a couple on hand for an occasional "booty call," but I tended to respect women a bit more than that.

"Good morning, Tyrone," I grumbled and pushed past him to the vending machine. "If Edwin McCain is 'white girl music,' then how do you know who he is?"

"I dated a white girl once or twice," he admitted.

"You secretly have an album or two, don't you?" I cocked an eyebrow at him and waited. I could almost hear a cheesy record-rip sound effect as my question sunk in.

Just like that the conversation was over and steered toward sports. I laughed to myself. Tyrone thought way too much about maintaining a tough guy image. He'd grow out of it eventually, and that was something that I wanted to be around to see. The coffee machine dropped my paper cup into the tray and filled it with some noxious liquid that was supposed to resemble French Roast; it didn't. It did contain caffeine, which was my only requirement. I downed the cup in one gulp and filled it with water from the fountain several times to wash it down. I settled into a chair at one of the study tables to work on some advanced theory homework that was due in a few hours. Tyrone took the seat opposite from mine and kept up his monologue. I responded where appropriate.

I knew when Shatika walked into the room that the burning issue was going to come up again. Tyrone had tried several times to set us up. She was a sweet girl, and possibly the most mature out of the group.

"Yo, Shatika, come here, girl. I wanna ask you 'bout somethin'," he called.

"Tyrone," I chided.

"Oh, come on, E-man, you are not getting off that easy."

"What Tyrone?" Shatika sighed and plopped down at the table. Her hair was pulled back in an intricate braid that was impossible to trace around her head. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and cocoa butter.

"What do you think about Edwin McCain?" he baited.

She scrunched up her nose delicately and asked, "Who?"

"You know, _Rain falls angry on the tin roof as we lie awake in my be-ed..."_ Tyrone's vocal chords should have been removed at puberty; his voice broke at least three times in one phrase.

"Oh, yeah, that one. I kind of like him."

"See, not white girl music." I smirked.

"It's still girl music. You are a man, you need man music, brother," he shrieked again.

"I think that E can listen to whatever he wants," Shatika shot back.

"He is never gonna get a woman that way..."

"Oh, I don't think E would ever have a problem with that. Look at him, he's just pretty..."

I suddenly felt the desperate need to be elsewhere.

"I'm gonna go hit the computer lab down the hall," I excused myself.

"Oh, bye, Pretty E-man!" Tyrone called after me. I flicked him the bird over my shoulder.

I hid out in the lab for a couple of hours and did my work. I just had to make it through theory and then I could head home for a nap before driving out to my other job on Tybee.

/*/*/*/

"Ready to go?" Peter asked as he slid behind the bar. I'd worked the dinner shift that afternoon, and he was coming in to take over the evening. Dinner shift was notoriously easy as few people ordered anything mixed with dinner. I spent most of the evening fetching bottles of beer and wine. I briefly noticed a pair of ladies near the window; both had ordered Chardonnay by the glass. I set the bottle aside for Peter; the brunette looked like she'd probably want another glass or two.

"Table twelve's been working on this bottle. See ya later, man," I said and stepped out from behind the bar.

The beach and my guitar were calling me. I'd had the same Edwin McCain song playing in the back of my mind all evening and couldn't get rid of it, and the beach looked inviting through the large windows on the other side of the room. The sand and surf had mocked me all evening. I could almost feel the grainy texture of sand and hear the sound of my guitar mixing with the ocean waves in the background, as I walked just a little faster to get to the service entrance.

Hotels are interesting places. The upscale ones in particular put a lot of money into the furnishings that the guests could see, but the staff areas of almost every hotel were the same. They were sparse, industrial, and lacked character. The contrast of moving from one area to another was always a shock. I went from the soft ambient lighting of the hotel bar to the bright, sterile kitchen. I waved to Tony, the chef, and collected the napkin-covered plate that he'd set out for me minutes before.

Tony was amazing. He was one of those people who took care of everyone in his life. Hotel employees could always find some form of food laid out for them on lunch break or at the end of their shift. The man never seemed to stop cooking, but he also knew the intimate details of every staff member at the hotel. There were many nights when we'd all gather 'round as he and the rest of the kitchen staff would clean up for the night and unwind.

I grabbed my plate and stuffed a bottle of water into my back pocket before heading out the back to grab my guitar and sit on the beach. Dinner and music on the beach was my favorite way to end the day. I got a few looks as my guitar, Veronica, and I slid out the back entrance. I'd named my acoustic guitar Veronica as a teenager. It was a joke having to do with the fact that she was so high maintenance, or at least I'd thought so as a new guitar owner.

I made my way down the dune walkover and onto the quiet beach. It was a beautiful evening. I found a spot down the beach from the hotel to sit in peace without the light from the windows spilling directly on the sand. The entire beach was bathed in the last faint strands of sunlight filtering between the buildings from the other side of the island. It was gorgeous.

My stomach growled, so I decided to eat dinner. I dug into my plate of food and discovered that Tony had pulled out all the stops and was trying a new recipe. I'd never been great with food, but this was amazing. I think I actually moaned over the second bite. He had updated the standard southern fare of seafood and grits. I doubted that management would put it on the menu, but I loved it.

With a full stomach, I turned to Veronica and freed her from her case. She wasn't my only guitar, but she was my favorite. Taking only a moment to tune her, I started playing the song that had haunted me all day. I played for a few minutes before a few members of the day staff at the hotel found me. They lurked far enough behind me, closer to the dune, so that I wouldn't feel the need to stop and socialize. They wanted me to keep playing while they wound down. I smiled and felt an inexplicable pang of something akin to longing when I hit the chorus.

_And I'll be your cryin' shoulder  
__I'll be love's suicide  
__And I'll be better when I'm older  
__I'll be the greatest fan of your life_

I continued into the verse and poured more emotion into it. As much as I avoided Tyrone's set-ups, I really did want to meet someone special. I just didn't enjoy the college dating scene. I wanted someone to hold and to love. I'd had my fair share of merely scratching an itch with a woman during my days between high school and college when I toured with the band.

_And I'd dropped out, I burned up  
__I fought my way back from the dead  
__Turned in, turned on  
__Remembered the thing that you said..._

Leaving the band had been the best thing for me. I didn't want to get into the rock scene anymore. My band-mates had started doing drugs and behaving like we were rock stars even though we were still playing college towns. I guess I just outgrew it. College and settling down a bit suddenly started to sound like a better option.

I had been accepted to several schools based on my audition, but I had to admit that I missed Georgia. I wanted to come back to my family on Tybee on the weekends. Savannah seemed like the best option. I could enjoy the rich heritage and nightlife that the city offered and still be home every week for Esme's peach cobbler on Sundays.

When Savannah State accepted me, I'd jumped at the chance. My experience there would be musically rich and culturally unique. I was ready for a change. I'd had to prove myself to the other students from the beginning, but I loved every second of it.

I suddenly found myself out of notes. I'd played through the entire song. The soft clapping of three or four people could be heard behind me. I figured that whoever my audience happened to be liked Edwin McCain, so I moved onto another love song. I followed my fingers as they seemed to pick out another one.

_Lyin' here with you  
__Listening to the rain.  
__Smiling just to see,  
__The smile upon your face._

_These are the moments I thank God that I'm alive_  
_These are the moments I'll remember all my life_  
_I've got all I've waited for_  
_And I could not ask for more_

I heard a small sound to my right, too close to be one of my regular audience. I looked up to see a mythical creature. She was bathed in the moonlight, and looked like a sea nymph. Her skin was shining like a pale blue beacon, calling to me. Her hair framed her face in a mass of dark waves. I noticed that she was crying. In that moment she seemed like the most tragic creature I'd ever seen. Beautiful women should never be so sad. I stopped playing.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently. I was ready to abandon Veronica and go to her. She didn't answer.

"It's okay; that song just brings back a lot of memories for her," a small, authoritative voice from behind her spoke up. I peered around and saw a petite pixie of a woman. Did all mythical creatures travel in pairs?

"I could play something else," I said. I didn't want the nymph to cry. If I could make her feel better, perhaps make her smile, then it felt like my life would have some sort of profound meaning.

"Thanks ... It's okay, really." The pixie was gathering her friend to remove her from the beach. My heart lurched at the thought. Reluctantly, the taller woman turned and stumbled several feet away with the support of her friend before collapsing into a heap. She was too much for the pixie to carry.

She let out the most heartbreaking of wails. I felt it resonate deep in my chest. Not a nymph, then. She was Viola mourning for her brother on the shore. Her sadness was all encompassing and deep. It hurt just to hear it, but I could see her, beating her fists fruitlessly at the sand. Her sobs and writhing pain would never bring back whatever she'd lost. She rocked like a child seeking comfort.

I had to do something. I set Veronica back in her case and turned to see who was behind me. There was a girl from the waitstaff whom I recognized. I asked her to take my things back to the hotel for me, and she agreed. She and the rest had already sensed that my little impromptu concert was over. I could tell that they felt like intruders on the woman's grief. I felt attached to Viola, even though I didn't know her real name.

I ran the few steps between the hunched female form and my spot on the beach. The pixie was crouched over her, speaking softly, trying to get her to her feet, but her friend was too far gone. She needed to cry until it was over. It was like an infection; it had to be drawn out. I placed a hand on the smaller woman's shoulder to get her attention.

"She won't get up," the pixie cried.

"I know." I knelt down next to her and removed her hands. "You need to let her finish," I whispered.

"I'm losing her." She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Her husband died, and now I'm losing her, too. It's just too much. I thought that she'd be better here, away from everything that they had together, but she's still barely able to function."

I was correct in my assumption that her story was tragic. However, it was worse than I'd thought: Viola had lost her love. The pixie and I hovered over her until she finally quieted, too overcome and exhausted to stir. She seemed smaller, sadder, more delicate.

"Great, now how am I going to get her to our room?" the pixie sighed.

"Would you like me to carry her for you?" I asked. Then, I thought about it. These women weren't local. I'd detected a slight northern twinge to the pixie's voice. She probably wouldn't feel comfortable trusting me. "I'm a bartender at The Dolphin Reef Restaurant; you ordered the Round Hill Chardonnay with dinner."

That last bit probably didn't inspire much confidence. I mentally kicked myself for sounding like a stalker. However, the pixie's face softened. Perhaps she'd accept my help after all.

"I'm Alice." She stuck out her hand.

"Edward." I took it and shook hands with her. "So, do you want me to..."

"That'd be great, thank you." She smiled weakly.

I bent down and lifted her beautiful friend from the sand. With my arms supporting her, she nestled easily into my chest, stirring slightly to get more comfortable. She smelled like flowers and the sea. I wanted to know about her for some reason.

We trudged back toward the hotel. When we reached the path, I decided to just to ask. I took a deep breath and looked down at Alice.

"What happened?" I sighed.

"With Bella?" she asked, indicating the sleeping woman in my arms. I repeated the name in my head a few times. _Viola's name is Bella._

"Yeah, you said that her husband died?" I prompted, as we continued to make our way up the ramp to the hotel's back entrance.

"Jacob was an architect. He and Bella have been-well, were-together for as long as I've known her. She called him her personal sun." Alice smiled wistfully. "They were trying to start a family. Then, one day it all ended. He was in an accident at work. He'd gone out to the job site ... a steel girder fell on him. Jacob died instantly."

Alice stopped talking when she opened the door. The light and ambient noise from the hallway struck us full force. It seemed artificial in comparison to the quiet sanctuary of the beach. We were quiet until we got to the elevator. My heart was still aching for the woman in my arms. When the doors slid closed, I couldn't help but ask for more details.

"Y'all are from New York?"

"I am, Bella and Jake are..." She sighed. "_Bella_ is from Washington state."

"I'm truly sorry, Alice," I said.

"It's okay; I'm just still not used to it. The two really were inseparable." She leaned back in the elevator and let her head rest on the wall. "I just don't want to lose her," she added quietly.

"You won't," I tried to reassure her.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened on their floor.

"No offense, Edward, but I don't have much faith in that. She's capable of healing, but it won't happen if she doesn't allow it." Alice pushed off from the wall and led the way down the corridor to their room. She swiped the card key and swung the door inward, holding it open for me to follow.

"Bedroom?" I asked, and following her nod I walked back and laid the tragic beauty on the bed.

As Alice was walking me to the door I turned to her. "Just give Bella some time; she'll want to pick up the pieces eventually."

The small woman nodded and let me out. I went home on autopilot that night, still thinking about _her._ I shuffled through the hotel, somehow remembering to pick up Veronica. My Volvo drove itself back to Savannah. I dreamt of mourning mythical creatures and sad Shakespearean heroines until dawn.

/*/*/*/

The next morning, I groggily walked into the kitchen feeling like I hadn't slept at all. It was rare for anything to get under my skin like the situation with Bella had. I padded over to the cupboard with the intent of grabbing some form of cardboard-like fiber-rich cereal. I hadn't been grocery shopping, and Emmett was a bit of a health nut. I felt something pelt me in the back of the head and turned to find the _lovely_ Rosalie Hale sitting in my breakfast nook.

"We need to talk about the set list," she whispered.

"Could you speak up? I'm still half asleep."

"I can't; I think I've got Emmett's cold," she croaked a little more loudly. I grimaced at the sound and turned away from the cabinet, all thoughts of cereal forgotten.

"You're kidding me?" I groaned. This was most decidedly bad. If Rose couldn't talk, then she couldn't sing. How were we going to work our act around that? "We've got another day; maybe your voice will come back?"

"Emmett just started to feel better last night," she informed me.

"That's three days," I sighed. "We're just going to have to cancel. Jane and Alec can do another shift this week."

"No," Rose tried to shout but only managed a strangled cry. She banged her fist on the table.

"Listen, I know that you and Jane don't get along ..." I stopped talking at Rose's glare. She and Jane had a long-standing mutual hatred, which started long before the two began working at Savannah Smiles. Anyone caught standing between the two of them would probably turn into a block of ice from the chill the two of them seemed to create. Her twin, Alec, wasn't much better. The only word to describe him was slimy. He continuously engaged in dialogue-including sexual innuendo-with his sister as part of their act. He also seemed to admire her breasts a little too much for comfort. It was unsettling to say the least.

I stared at Rose for a solid minute trying to formulate an alternate solution since she didn't plan on letting the "incest twins" have our night. There was no way to perform without her at least speaking. Most of what people came in for was the off-color banter between the two pianists. It wouldn't work if she was mute.

"I don't see a way to do this, Rose." I intentionally looked away from the blond whose stare could have rivalled Medusa's and hid behind the cabinet door.

I was shocked to see that Emmett had actually purchased Raisin Bran. Mmmmm... cardboard with chewy non-cardboard... I needed to go shopping. When I closed the cabinet, Rosalie was standing directly behind the door.

"Fine, come up with an alternative set list without singing, but if you can't talk at all, we're going to have to call Jane," I threatened. She was still standing there. "There's no way to do the show in pantomime. You need your hands to play."

She finally nodded and walked back to the table. Rose was a great partner, but she always seemed to get her way. I chalked that up to the fact that she seemed to be descended from some form of exceedingly scary Norwegian-Amazon bloodline of women who ate people for breakfast. I liked her.

Emmett chose that moment to emerge from hibernation and join us for breakfast. He lumbered in and shot me a pointed glance. I was eating his cereal-again.

"I'll buy more," I responded to the unspoken challenge.

"Not the cheap stuff with added sugar." He pointed a spoon at me. I suppressed a laugh at his choice of weapon. "You came in later than usual. Rough night at the bar?" he asked.

"Kind of." I didn't elaborate, instead opting to find something rather interesting in my bowl to play with. A raisin would do.

Rosalie made a noise. I glared at her. If she really wanted to perform, she was going to have to keep quiet. She wasn't looking at me but was focused on participating in some sort of semi-silent communication with Emmett. I shook my head and went back to my cereal.

Emmett plopped down across the table from me, sparing a moment to kiss Rose. I didn't look back up again until I realized that there had been no movement from their side of the table.

"What?"

"You're just... pensive... It's kind of disturbing, dude," Emmett said. He was studying me. "Did something happen last night?"

"Not much, regular shift, hauled Veronica down to the beach..." _watched a Shakespearean tragedy unfold..._"played a bit for the rest of the staff-typical night."

"You sure about that?" he pressed. Emmett should have been a detective. He always seemed to know when something was up.

"There were these women on the beach..." I started.

"Now we're talkin'..."

"Not like that, Emmett. One of them lost her husband recently. Something I played upset her, and she broke down right there on the sand. It was heartbreaking," I explained.

"Oh," he responded, and we went back to breakfast. I shoveled my bran flakes and raisins down as quickly as I could. Sick or not, Rosalie was leaning in toward Emmett in a way that said I needed to disappear if I didn't want to see them naked.

"No talking!" I ordered Rosalie as I rushed to get dressed and out the door. I heard something strike the frame as I closed it and laughed to myself. Emmett had a very long day ahead of him keeping her quiet. I really didn't want to know what that would entail.

I went to campus to work on a composition in the computer lab. I still lacked a copy of Finale even though I'd invested in the midi keyboard to plug into my laptop. I knew that I could just ask Carlisle and Esme and they'd give me a copy, but I was far too old to be asking my parents for money. I would find a way to afford it on my own.

There was a new TA in the computer lab named Tanya, according to her necklace. Much like me, she stood out on campus. Her strawberry blond hair and lightly tanned skin would make her easy to find in a crowd at Savannah State. Chances were that she was very good at whatever instrument she played. Savannah State was a Historically Black College, and students with fair skin were few and far between. I waved at her and decided to introduce myself later, since my composition was due on Monday and time was running out. She was gone when I finished.

I went to work at the hotel bar that night, with no sign of Viola or the pixie. I wondered if Alice had given up and taken Bella home or if the two were holed up in their room. I could have asked Charlotte, the night desk clerk on duty, if they'd checked out, but that probably would have crossed the line from "concerned nice guy" back into "stalker who remembers what wine you drink" territory. The wine comment wasn't really my fault. As a bartender, it often-literally-paid to know what people were drinking.

I'd just have to wait and see if they showed up. It was entirely possible that I might never see either of them again. That was a strangely sad thought. I didn't have any real investment in the pair, but I wanted to know if they were alright. I really was bordering on being a stalker.

Determined not to be "that guy," I resisted the urge to check on the ladies. I considered heading down to the beach to play just in case they were taking another walk but decided that after closing would be too late for them to be out, anyway. I also needed to check on Rosalie. Jane and Alec would need notice before performing. I kept my path back to my car as far wide of the elevators and the front desk as I possibly could.

Rosalie was asleep when I returned home. Emmett sat on the couch with a game controller in his hand, focused on the screen. I flopped into the matching armchair and waited for him to finish the level.

"Did the Princess behave today?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Yes, she did." He smirked at me, and I tossed the nearest throw pillow at him.

"She's supposed to be _resting,"_ I said.

"Just messin' with ya... She slept most of the day, and I fed her soft foods-no dairy," he said. "I threatened to gag her if she talked."

"I bet that went over well." I rolled my eyes. There was no way that Emmett would ever make good on that particular threat.

"She stayed quiet." He turned off the game console and headed for the kitchen. "Drink?" he asked.

"Yeah, grab me a beer," I called over my shoulder.

Emmett returned with two bottles. I held out my hand, and he practically dropped mine into it as he walked past. Once he was resituated on the sofa, he looked back up at me.

"Dude, you look ill. Am I going to have to call Jane and Alec myself?"

"No, I'm fine." I took a swig of my beer to avoid conversation.

"Either you're sick or something's bugging you."

I glared at him.

"We never talk anymore," he whined.

"You are such a girl," I laughed. "That and I only stopped talking to you because all you talk about is Rose and her various body parts."

"I do not!" he protested.

I raised an eyebrow, and he let it go.

"In all fairness, you haven't looked like you needed to spill your guts until today." He leveled his eyes with mine. "Did you see anymore crying widows this evening?"

"No." My voice must have betrayed some type of emotion because recognition crossed Emmett's features before he wiped it away. Death was a touchy subject for me, and he knew it-which was mildly amusing since we lived in Savannah, possibly the most haunted city in the US.

"Are you coming to dinner at Carlisle and Esme's tomorrow?" I asked.

"Can we play it by ear? Rose may need the rest if she's going to insist on playing tomorrow night," he responded with a shrug.

"I'm going to bed." I got up, downed the rest of my beer in one gulp, and tossed it over the counter into the trashcan on my way back to my bedroom.

/*/*/*/

"Good morning, sailor." A sultry voice pulled me from a deep sleep.

I was quite puzzled as I hadn't had a woman in my bed for years. A hand ruffled my hair and scratched my scalp. My eyes popped open and searched for the woman attached to the hand and the voice.

Rosalie sat perched on the edge of my bed. I narrowed my eyes at her before rolling over and putting my pillow over my face. She tried to pry it off my face.

"Come on, big boy, it's time to wake up?"

_Why is Rosalie using the porn star voice?_

I pulled my head out from under the pillow to stare at her. Raising one eyebrow, I pulled myself to a seated position.

"What's up with the porn star voice?" I asked.

"Don't you like it? My voice isn't completely back yet, so I sound kind of hot," she said and smoothed a hand across my blanket in a manner that was supposed to be sexy but fell just shy due to the fact that she couldn't keep a straight face.

"No more talking," I chided. "Where's the set list?"

She dropped a piece of paper in my lap with a list of songs we could feasibly depend on the audience to sing, or go without vocals, and dirty jokes to accompany it. I was familiar with the list. I just needed a little time this morning to familiarize myself with the script she wrote.

"I see you plan on using that husky voice of yours to your advantage this evening," I commented. The fact that it was Sunday night and few of the regulars would be around was going to work out to our benefit.

"Are you and Emmett coming to dinner on Tybee?" I asked.

Rosalie shook her head, 'no.'

"Good, but don't go using that newfound voice of yours to woo my best friend. Get some rest, and save it for tonight." I pointed a finger at her as she sauntered out the door.

Rosalie brandished an entirely different finger back at me over her shoulder.

/*/*/*/

"Edward!" Esme called from the front porch as soon as I exited the car. I squinted in the midday sun even from behind my sunglasses. Sometimes the continuous heat and sunshine of South Georgia could melt a man, even with Fall approaching. A bead of sweat slid down my back as if the sun was trying to prove that fact.

I waved at my godmother and looked over at the house next door. There was a scaffolding reaching up to the second floor and a large pile of building supplies haphazardly piled on the lawn. Someone had been working on it again.

I walked to the door and gave Esme a hug. She placed a kiss on my cheek and pulled me into the house. The smell of roasted chicken and peach cobbler assaulted me. I hummed in approval and felt my mouth water.

"I've made your favorite," Esme said and handed me a glass of sweet tea. I took the condensation-coated glass from her hand and took a drink.

"Thank you," I said and followed her into the kitchen where we joined Carlisle. She'd put my godfather on salad duty. He stood at the counter meticulously chopping vegetables with precision that one only saw exhibited by a surgeon. I almost expected him to be holding a scalpel instead of a chef's knife.

"Ah! Edward, how are you, my boy?" Carlisle asked, barely looking up from the bell pepper he was dissecting.

"Things are good. I finished my composition this morning," I said.

"Can we hear it?" Esme asked. She was excited, so I nodded and made my way to the piano in the great room. Esme followed me. I had been smart and brought my notebook with my printed music into the house with me.

I found that I didn't have to think about the music as I played. I glanced at the sheet music twice. The song was sad, soft, and heartbreaking. I thought about Bella on the beach. I couldn't imagine being with someone for as long as she had only to have it all ripped away. I knew a couple of things about her.

The first was that she loved deeply. I'd seen loss before. She wasn't bouncing back from it. Perhaps her friend, Alice, was right; she needed a change of scenery. I worried about what would happen when it came time for Alice to leave. Surely Bella shouldn't be by herself.

The second thing that I had gleaned from our brief encounter was that her friend must love her. Alice had cared enough to pull her out of her rut and bring her to Tybee. I hoped that Alice's plan worked. Bella was too young to die of a broken heart.

The song spiralled to a close. I could feel it hanging in the air after I played the last note. When I turned to Esme, she had tears in her eyes, and her hand was resting on her chest. Carlisle stood behind her, having just come from the kitchen. He seemed to be affected by the music, too. I almost felt guilty for bringing down the mood in the house, but my godparents smiled, and Esme clapped her hands together.

"That was sad; beautiful, but sad," Esme said.

"I hate to interrupt, but I pulled the chicken out of the oven; dinner's ready," Carlisle murmured.

We moved into the dining room and ate dinner. It was relatively quiet. Esme even forgot to ask me whether or not I was dating anyone, which was her usual line of questioning.

/*/*/*/

That evening, I was pleasantly surprised at work. Rosalie and I finished our set at the bar. I thought that I saw the pixie in the audience. When we finished for the evening, I made my way out to mingle with the crowd, but I really wanted to see if it was indeed Alice I saw. My suspicions were confirmed when I caught sight of the pair. Bella was scanning the crowd for someone.

I called out to Alice, and she waved me over. We made a bit of small talk. I let her officially introduce me to Bella. The poor, shipwrecked brunette still looked miserable, and somewhat embarrassed. However, she did give me her full name, Bella Black. Alice invited me to join them, but Bella was tense. I offered to get drinks to allow them some alone time. If the lady Viola needed an escape, I wasn't going to prevent it. She could easily tell her friend while I was gone.

We made a bit more small talk when I returned. Bella didn't open up. Instead, she made an excuse to leave before they finished their drinks. It stung a bit, but I couldn't blame her. It came from a place inside of her that was overtly hurting. I understood that.

/*/*/*/

"Edward, my man." Emmett clapped a hand on my shoulder, and I knew that I was in trouble. He'd seen me talking to Bella and Alice on Sunday night. I successfully avoided him for nearly three days, which is hard to do when you share an apartment and work together. "You'll never believe what I thought I saw on Sunday night..."

"A unicorn," I suggested.

"No, but just as rare. I'm pretty sure I saw you talking to a pair of lovely ladies," he said.

"Don't go there, Emmett; that was the dear widow and her friend," I responded.

Emmett raised an eyebrow before opening his mouth again. "When you said widow, before, I was thinking about someone much, much older. Man, how did the guy die," he mused.

"Accident on a construction site," I muttered. For some reason, talking about Bella's deceased husband hurt.

"Ew. Well, they were both attractive-maybe you should consider-"

"Walk away, Emmett," I warned him, "she needs a friend, not some guy trying to get her into bed."

With that, Emmett left the subject of Bella Black alone.

I didn't see her again. Time passed with agonizing slowness as I continued my regular schedule. By the following Monday I needed a distraction. Worrying about a woman whom I had no real connection to was wearing me down. She didn't want my help, and I didn't know her well enough to just show up and check on her.

Tanya-the tall, tan, blonde-bumped into me on campus. We were both reaching for the last blueberry muffin at the coffee cart in the student center. I let her have it.

"Hi, I'm Edward Cullen. I don't believe that we've met," I introduced myself.

"Tanya Denali." She stuck out her hand. "I've seen you around the music department. You're kind of old to be an undergrad, aren't you?"

Tanya was a very direct person.

"Yeah, I took a few years off." I ducked my head a bit. I had never been embarrassed by the fact that I was a nontraditional student before. "I was in a marginally successful band for a while."

"Really, what band?" She took a seat and indicated for me to join her.

"Banana Sidecar, you've probably never heard of it." I absently ran a hand through my hair.

"Actually..." She paused to pull out her iPod and spun her finger along the click wheel before passing it to me. On the screen was a tiny picture of our last album. "You were pretty good. This last CD wasn't your best, but I really liked the rest of your work." She smiled.

The rest of the conversation went pretty well. Tanya liked indie rock music and played the violin as well as bass guitar. We decided to get together and jam on the following Wednesday. I had to admit that Tanya was the kind of laid-back girl with whom I could spend a lot of time. She was just cool.

The rest of the week passed by a little more quickly. Rose got her voice back, so we tweaked our set list a couple more times. I added some new songs. Thoughts of Bella Black still crept in, but I had other things with which to occupy myself. Tanya and I spoke in the hallway a few times between classes.

Then came Saturday.

/*/*/*/

I hardly expected to find Bella Black at a Kroger in Savannah staring at the cartons of Haagen Dazs and grumbling like a crazy person. She'd picked up a tan during the past couple of weeks and looked a little less depressed but slightly insane. Fortunately, she was in Savannah, so no one stared because everyone had a crazy relative of some sort who got into the occasional tiff with a rack of dessert items. I, on the other hand, knew that this wasn't normal behavior for her.

"Bella?" I called to her, causing her to violently whip around and nearly lose her balance in the frozen foods section. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I apologized.

"Hi," she said sweetly.

"Hey." I had to grin at her. The instant change in her demeanor was too cute; she blushed bright pink like a teenage girl. "What brings you here?"

In response she merely pointed to the offending ice cream. I ascertained that Alice must have left, otherwise she wouldn't be so angry at a dairy product.

"Yeah, some things are hard to find on the island," I said.

"And in Savannah," she said, folding her arms across her chest and scowling.

I raised an eyebrow. What couldn't she find in Savannah? It was a major city after all.

"No White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle."

Internally, I laughed as she told me her ice cream issue. Women were an interesting contribution to the human race. Apparently it was "her flavor," and she couldn't decide between two others. My suggestion of the perfectly logical "buy both" was not met with much enthusiasm. She was alone, and grieving, and irrational, so I did what any gentleman would do: I invited her over.

By the look on her face, she took it wrong. I could see the wheels turning. She thought...

"I'm not trying to... I didn't mean anything by that, Bella. I just thought... um... this way you could, you know, have both flavors. Right away," I back-peddled.

"That's really sweet of you, Edward." She sounded like she was leading into a rejection but stopped.

"So... uh... what do you think?" I prompted. This situation had become too awkward for words. I felt like I was asking her out, even though I had no intention of doing so.

"Well, I guess, we could... uh... share them..." Her cheeks turned pink again.

I bought her ice cream after a bit of a protest on her part; she definitely wasn't a southern girl. If she was going to hang around, she was going to have to get used to people, men in particular, doing things for her. I wondered how she'd react if I opened the door for her.

I drove uncharacteristically slowly back to my place so that Bella wouldn't get lost in the maze that is Savannah. She seemed to relax a bit over ice cream. I steered her into a conversation about parts of herself that most likely weren't linked to Jacob, the husband, and finally got to see her for who she really was.

The afternoon wore on, and our ice cream was long gone. However, I didn't want to send her back to the hotel to eat on her own. I didn't know how long she'd been doing that, as she hadn't been down to the restaurant in a while. The woman needed this. She needed a friend.

"I'm off work; do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked.

"Well..." She seemed to debate the simple question of dinner a bit too long.

"Come on, you're probably sick of take-out and hotel food. When was the last time you ate a home-cooked meal?" I asked.

"I don't remember." She turned that pretty shade of pink again.

"Stay," I implored her.

She smiled and announced, "Okay, but I'm going to help."

I led her to the kitchen and scared up some steaks and potatoes. Bella found some salad fixings in the refrigerator and set to work on that. I had to admit that it was nice having company in the kitchen and seeing her smile. We laughed and talked over dinner. I decided not to fight her on the dishes. She insisted on helping clean up. I felt a bit guilty about that since she was a guest, but it kept her at the house a bit longer, and she didn't have anything waiting for her at the hotel except for reality TV and solitude, neither of which could be good for her.

Emmett breezed through as we were wrapping up and shot me a pointed glance. Chances were that I'd have to deal with him acting like a nosy old woman when she left. I coaxed her into staying just a bit longer, but she did eventually need to go back. Navigating the roads from my house to the hotel could be difficult in the dark.

She looked alive when she got into her car and drove off. Perhaps I didn't have to worry so much about her. Bella seemed to be finding her way ever so slowly back into civilization.

* * *

_**wougkat says: **To set the record straight: I grew up in Georgia and spent a few years living not too far from Tybee in a tiny town. One of my friends and I used to drive our kids out to Tybee during the summer. Savannah, which is a quick drive back across the bridge, was one of my favorite places to go on dates with my DH. It's a fun place, and you should go visit - and take a ghost tour - one of my best friends is a tour guide._


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** We would apologize for the delay in getting this chapter to you, but we all know how RL works. And Kat had a baby (congrats again!) before she was finished with this, so we can definitely forgive that, right? Thanks for sticking with us!_

_And just because we can, we decided to each take a section of this chapter. Actually, Bella stopped talking way too soon, so Edward picked up the ball and ran. The next chapter is all Bella. _

_Thanks, as always, to EchoesofTwilight for being our beta. :)_

* * *

**BPOV**

"Oh, Bella, I'm so proud of you!"

It was just as I had predicted. Alice was thrilled that I had stepped outside of my self-imposed bubble and spent the evening hanging out with Edward. She had just finished quizzing me on everything we had talked about and was now in full-on gush mode.

I smiled at my phone, glad I was being spared the bouncing and silent clapping thanks to the distance between us.

"So how was the graduation?" I asked, trying to change the subject to neutral territory. I had suddenly realized that she hadn't said anything about it whenever we had talked in the two weeks since she had returned to New York. Although she hadn't actually been there, I knew she would've grilled Jasper thoroughly and could tell me all the details as if she'd witnessed it for herself.

Alice delivered her monologue for a solid ten minutes, and I paid just enough attention to respond in all the right places and grasp the gist of the event. It seemed that Hannah's graduation had gone off without a hitch, and the time spent with the family had been both enjoyable and enlightening.

"Really?" I murmured half-heartedly when she shared that the oldest Whitlock child, Esther, was expecting her first child in a few months.

And then my breath froze in my chest.

I mentally counted backwards.

No. It couldn't be.

"Alice, I'll call you right back," I said, cutting her off mid-sentence, and hung up.

I pulled up the calendar on my Blackberry and did the math again.

Yes. It _could_ be.

_Holy crow!_ I thought as the tears began to flow. The phone slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers onto the comforter. I sat down heavily on the bed.

I had been on Tybee for almost a month. It had been almost three months since... since the accident. And in all that time, I hadn't once had to think about or purchase feminine hygiene products. Alice had thoughtfully packed them; I had seen them when I unpacked my toiletries. However, I hadn't even thought about them since then... because I hadn't had a period in about three months.

And I'd been eating more than usual and having cravings lately...

Taking a shuddering breath, I touched my abdomen lightly as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

Another thought struck me, and the tears came even harder.

I had been drinking steadily-excessively-for two of those three months.

My other hand rose to cover my mouth as I collapsed sideways on the bed. I curled my legs up in the fetal position, worrying that my baby-_our_ baby-might be physically or mentally damaged by my inability to cope with my husband's death for those first two months.

I vowed right then and there not to take another sip of alcohol until I was finished nursing. Maybe not even then.

I lay there for who knew how long, terrified and elated by turns. I was terrified for the health of the baby and elated at the thought of carrying _our_ child. Terrified just thinking about raising a baby alone; elated that some part of _him_ would live on. Terrified that I wouldn't be a good mother; elated that I would get the chance to try.

It seemed like I lay there forever, but it was very likely only a couple of minutes before the phone began to ring.

I sat up and brushed the tears from my cheeks, smoothing the hair off my forehead as I picked up the phone.

_Alice_, the screen flashed before showing that I had missed the call. I quickly dialed her back, trying to steady my breathing.

"Bella, are you okay?" she demanded, in lieu of a _hello._

"Alice, are you sitting down?" I responded immediately, adding on, "I'm fine."

"What's going on, honey? You scared me."

"Alice, I think I'm pregnant," I whispered.

"What?" she shrieked. "Since when? What have you been doing since I left, Bella?"

"Just listen," I pleaded.

"I'm all ears, honey."

I took a deep breath and plunged in. "When you said that Esther was expecting, it got me thinking... I haven't had a period in _three months!_ I guess I hadn't really noticed it because of-because of everything else that was going on," I stuttered. "But now that I think about it, I've been eating a lot more than I normally do, and I've been craving stuff I don't usually eat. That's how I ended up hunting down that Kroger in Savannah yesterday."

"Okay, so wait a minute," Alice interjected, taking advantage of my need to breathe. "You haven't taken a home pregnancy test, and you haven't been to a doctor."

"Right. I only just realized it while I was talking to you," I explained.

She was silent. Once again, Alice was at a loss for words.

"Alice, I'm really scared," I confided. "And worried. After Ja-after the accident, I drank all the time. And I wasn't eating. What if the baby is-I don't know-deformed or-or mentally retarded or something? It'll be all my fault. And what if I'm not a good mother? I don't know anything about babies. I just-"

"Bella! Stop, honey; slow down," Alice commanded gently.

I inhaled slowly and let it out again. "Okay."

"Don't borrow trouble," she said calmly. "First things first. You need to find out if you really _are_ pregnant; then we can figure out the rest."

"Al-iss! How could I _not_ be? Didn't you hear what I said? I haven't had a period for _three months! Three whole months!_ That's a pretty good indicator," I argued testily.

I could hear Alice tapping a manicured nail against her teeth as she thought. Then she said, "You need to find a doctor. Don't bother with the home pregnancy test kit thingy; I don't trust them."

"Me either," I agreed. "But I don't know any doctors in the area. Maybe I should just come back home."

"No," she said right away, and I could imagine her shaking her head vehemently. "I will find you an OB... in Savannah, because if it was _that_ difficult to find a good salon on the island, I can only _imagine_ how hard it would be to find a decent doctor!"

I chuckled at Alice's lack-of-civilization rant.

"In the meantime, Bella," she continued, "you should just try to take it easy: get plenty of rest, eat healthy foods, no strenuous activity or heavy lifting-"

"What am I going to lift, Alice? I'm staying in a hotel where my every whim is catered to."

"Good point." I could hear her smile. "Well, that's good. Just make sure you eat right and stop drinking-"

"Already done," I assured her. "Alcohol won't pass these lips until this baby is weaned," I promised.

"Good. Alright. Well, um, let me see what I can find for you, and I'll get back to you soon, okay?"

"Alright. Thank you so much, Alice," I said. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"That's what a best friend is for," she answered.

We said our good-byes, and I hung up the phone again. I curled back up on my side on the bed, smiling and crying simultaneously. What a roller coaster of emotions I was on. The terror and elation of before were now replaced by joy and sadness. I was overjoyed that I would still have a piece of him in my life, but I was also overcome with sadness that he would never see his child. I wanted to call him and tell him the good news, but I couldn't.

)ooOoo(

I must have cried myself to sleep. The next thing I remembered was waking up to a pitch black room with only the sound of the waves coming through the open balcony door.

My eyes felt gritty, like they had sand in them. I rubbed my fists against the lids, feeling the salt from my tears crusted on my lashes. I scrubbed my cheeks, wiping off the grainy residue there as well. Stretching the stiffness from my limbs, I sat up and crossed to the open door, looking out on the dark beach.

A couple crossed in front of my room, walking barefoot and hand-in-hand. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, tamping down my jealousy. It was only ten o'clock. Too early to try to go back to sleep, but too late to get something decent to eat. I wandered into the living room and flipped on the TV, using the remote to surf through the channels. There was nothing good on.

I opened my laptop and booted it up. I got myself a bottle of V8 Splash from the wet bar-plenty of vegetables for the baby-and settled down on the sofa to do a bit of Internet surfing. I read my personal emails and ignored the business messages. I checked out a few sites I used to frequent, avoiding my social networking pages so that I wouldn't have to see all the sympathy wishes posted by friends and colleagues.

When I finally ran out of things to catch up on, I Googled baby names and moused over the first site that popped up. My finger hovered over the left button for a few seconds before I finally clicked it. I pulled up a list of the most popular names of the previous year and immediately scrolled down to the less popular names. Some of them were positively hideous, and I couldn't believe that people actually gave their children names like those. Others were decent, and I found myself writing down my preferences to look up their meanings later.

It was eleven o'clock by that time, and I had started to feel a little bit sleepy, despite my tear-soaked nap earlier in the evening. I shut down the computer and made my way back into the bedroom, turning off the lights as I went. I finished off my bottle of juice, brushed my teeth, and snuggled into the soft mattress. I flipped off the bedside lamp and pulled the cool sheet over my shoulder, settling in for the night.

Resting one hand over my belly, I closed my eyes and whispered softly, "Oh, Jake, I wish you were here for this..."

)ooOoo(

The clock read ten thirty-five when I woke up next. I had slept nearly eleven hours, and now I was starving. I called room service and ordered scrambled eggs, a bagel with low-fat cream cheese, yogurt with fresh berries, and orange juice. While I waited for my breakfast to arrive, I booted up my laptop and checked to see if Alice had emailed me a list of doctors yet.

Bingo! It wasn't her usual annotated listing but a link to an exact replica of the yellow pages for Savannah OB/GYNs. She had added the message: _Check out the ads and websites and see which one appeals to you._

I spent a few minutes scanning the ads and listings. Some were more appealing than others, so I checked out the websites of those that caught my interest. They all looked professional, and some even emphasized that they were "caring" and "compassionate." However, I kept going back to the All Women's Health site.

I couldn't really explain it, but I had always been uncomfortable-unnaturally uncomfortable-with going to male gynecologists. Of the three ads featuring an all-female staff, the website of one seemed too institutionalized, the second I couldn't even pronounce the doctor's first name, and the third made me smile. That was All Women's Health.

I clicked the link for Registration Forms and was instructed to download and print nine forms. I hadn't thought to bring my portable printer with me, since most of the things I did for work were done online.

Plan B, I decided, was to download the forms to my flash drive and hope the hotel had a printer for guests to use.

After saving all nine forms onto my flash drive, I wrote down the address and phone number of the office and shut off the computer. Then I showered quickly, pulled on shorts and a blouse, and slid my feet into a pair of sandals. A short ride on the elevator brought me down to the main lobby where I found... no guest computers.

Plan C, anyone?

I walked over to the front desk and asked the clerk, "Is there a FedEx Office anywhere near here?"

She smiled apologetically and replied, "There are several in Savannah but none on Tybee."

I sighed. I really didn't want to drive all the way to Savannah just to print out forms I would need to have filled out before going to an OB appointment... in Savannah. Frustrated, I ran my hand through my hair.

"Can I help you with something?" the clerk asked, eyeing the storage device in my hand.

"Uh, yeah. I, um, need to print out some documents, but I don't have a printer, and I really don't want to go all the way to Savannah..."

She held out her hand and offered, "I can print them for you here, ma'am."

I handed the drive over and smiled as she printed all nine files for me. "Thank you so much-" I glanced at her name badge "-Charlotte. You're a lifesaver!" I added as she gave me the small stack of papers and my flash drive.

"It's no problem." She smiled brightly and nodded to someone behind me.

"Hey, Bella," said a voice I was coming to recognize. And I barely jumped at all this time. "Work stuff?" he asked, indicating the papers I held.

"Edward," I greeted. "No, just... uh... just had to get some things printed out."

I folded the papers over so he wouldn't see what they were for, wishing I could hide my blush as easily. He raised one eyebrow at me but didn't press for details.

"So what brings you here... during the day, I mean?"

He held up an envelope and said, "Just picking up my paycheck."

We smiled at each other and then just stood there like awkward adolescents, each of us shifting from one foot to the other.

"I guess I'd better-" I started.

Simultaneously, he said, "Hey, would you like to-"

I blushed again and said, "You first."

Edward rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck and said, "I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some lunch."

"That's really nice of you, Edward." I nearly cringed when he smiled widely. "I just ate breakfast, though," I continued. "And I have some things I need to take care of right now."

"Oh, okay. I, uh, I guess maybe some other time?"

I nodded quickly but non-committally and made a hasty retreat back up to my room.

)ooOoo(

By one o'clock, I had filled out all but one of the registration forms. I figured it was past the traditional lunch hour, so I picked up the phone and dialed the number for the doctor's office.

"All Women's Health; this is Brenda; how may I help you?" said the voice on the other end.

I cleared my throat nervously. "Um, yes, I need to make an appointment, please." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"What is the nature of the appointment, ma'am?"

I could hear her tapping on her keyboard in the background. Somehow that gave me my voice back.

"I think I'm pregnant," I said.

She then asked a series of questions. I responded as best I could and assured her that I had already downloaded the registration forms from their website and that I would bring them with me to my appointment. The earliest they had available was in two weeks. Since I didn't have much of a choice, I said that would be fine and thanked her for her help.

I entered the appointment into my Blackberry and flopped back on the sofa.

There really wasn't anywhere I felt like going at that point, so I powered up my laptop and began to research the names I had jotted down the night before. Of the ten names I had chosen, I really only liked two of the meanings. _Aimee_ meant "beloved," and _Blake_ meant "dark." This child would certainly be loved, and since both of us had dark hair, our child probably would, too.

I pulled up the Most Popular list again to go over it one more time and had to chuckle when I realized that, while fairly low in popularity, both Alice and Jasper's names were new to the charts last year. I discovered that _Alice_ meant "of a noble kin," and Jasper meant "treasurer." Neither of their name meanings were particularly fitting, but it was fun to look them up anyway. I also noticed that both my name and his name were rather high on the list. Again, the meanings-"God is my oath" and "supplanter"-weren't very suited to us.

With a sigh, I shut the computer off and glanced at my phone. It was only two. Since I'd eaten such a late breakfast, I had skipped lunch. I wasn't really hungry yet anyway, so I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I crossed to the balcony and opened the glass doors.

I breathed in deeply, reveling in the scent of the salty air. A light breeze was blowing, and from time to time I could hear the faint sounds of an acoustic guitar. I stepped out onto the balcony and scanned up and down the beach.

I finally located the guitarist off to my left, his back to me. The breeze played havoc with his naturally mussed bronze hair. His body moved with the rhythm of the song he played, lost in the music.

"Edward!" I called, but the breeze was blowing my way, so he didn't hear me.

Without another thought, I slipped my sandals back on and left the room, tucking my key card into my pocket. I took the elevator down and exited the hotel, hurrying along the beach, hoping I wasn't too late to catch at least part of the impromptu concert. He had a small gathering, mostly teenage girls but also some boys who watched his fingers hungrily, perhaps hoping to pick up some skills. I hung back on the fringes, facing his t-shirt-clad back.

He finished the song and glanced around at his audience and did a double-take when he saw me.

"Bella!" He smiled and beckoned me closer.

"Hey," I said as he reached back to grab my wrist and pull me down onto the blanket where he sat.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, strumming random chords.

"Not long. I heard you from my balcony," I explained. "Just bits of the song... on the breeze... so I thought I'd come down and listen."

He smiled again and continued strumming. He looked around at the crowd again. But it wasn't a crowd now. There were only a few people left as most had gone when we began to talk.

"What would you like to hear?" he asked then.

I shrugged and tucked my feet up under me on the blanket. "Pretty much anything," I said.

"Pretty much anything," he repeated with a chuckle. He strummed a few more chords, then began to pick a couple of individual notes and strum some more, and eventually a recognizable rhythm emerged. It was a bit bouncy and more mellow than the recorded version because it was acoustic. He played the same phrase several times before his voice joined the guitar.

_Sometimes, I feel the fear of_

_uncertainty stinging clear_

_And I can't help but ask myself_

_how much I let the fear take the wheel and steer._

_It's driven me before, and it seems to have a vague_

_haunting mass appeal._

_But lately I'm beginning to find that I_

_should be the one behind the wheel._

He glanced up at me before the chorus, and I found myself joining in without really meaning to.

_Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there_

_with open arms and open eyes, yeah._

_Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,_

_I'll be there..._

Edward looked at me sharply when I let him take the second verse alone, but I shook my head and listened.

_So if I decide to waiver my_

_chance to be one of the hive_

_Will I choose water over wine_

_and hold my own and drive?_

I chimed in on the bridge, thinking that I had begun to drive my own life again, not simply drifting in the wake of the accident that had changed me forever.

_It's driven me before, and it seems to be the way_

_that everyone else gets around,_

_But lately I'm beginning to find that_

_when I drive myself, my light is found_

The chorus, which I belted out accompanied by Edward's smile, seemed like an affirmation that I was not going to let myself fade away but that I would join the living again. After all, I had a reason to live again.

_Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there_

_w__ith open arms and open eyes, yeah._

_Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,_

_I'll be there..._

He played an instrumental interlude, cutting it shorter than it should be, and when he sang, "Would you choose water over wine? Hold the wheel and drive..." it felt like a challenge that I answered with the last chorus. I would be present, no matter what tomorrow brought. I had things to live for. Without even realizing it, Edward had once reminded me of what I had lost. Now he made me realize all that I still had in my life.

He watched my face as he closed the song, and I wondered what he saw. I gave him a tentative smile and thanked him for the song.

"My pleasure," he said.

/*/*/*/

_Edward_

It really was. I hadn't anticipated seeing Bella. She still seemed to be doing well. Running into her in the lobby was a surprise that I hadn't expected. She obviously didn't want me to know what the papers in her hands were, as she'd hidden them. When she went back to her room, I figured that I wouldn't see her again for a while.

Charlotte had given me a scathing look from the desk. I wondered what her problem was, and tried to ask but she waved me off while answering the phone. That was when I decided to go play on the beach. I was already blowing off class to pick up my check, so I might as well have some fun with my day off.

When Bella found me on the beach I was pleasantly surprised. I was also shocked that she sang along with me. I had picked "Drive" as a challenge to her, and it seemed like she was up for it.

She was living, and it was a relief. There was still a little edge of something that I couldn't identify in her behavior, but overall she seemed well. I didn't know why I obsessed over her well-being. I wanted to check on her every day but felt like it wasn't my place, so I sat with her on the beach and idly plucked out chords on my guitar.

Bella lifted her head and inhaled deeply. I couldn't help but smile at her, with her hair blowing around in the wind. This was the most relaxed that I'd ever seen her, at least while she was conscious. She was beginning to recover. The next thing she needed was a local support system, friends. What I could offer in that area probably wasn't as cultured or upscale as she was used to, but perhaps...

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" She turned so that she was facing me, cross-legged in the sand with her hair now blowing directly into her face. She battled it with her fingers for a moment, before grasping it in her left hand over her shoulder to hold it in place.

"Some friends and I are getting together on Wednesday night. Really, we're having a jam session. I know that it's probably not your thing but seeing as you're still fairly new in town, and Alice is back in New York... Would you like to come?" _Could I sound any more like a prepubescent boy?_

Her brow furrowed slightly when she asked, "A jam session?"

"You wouldn't have to sing or anything, unless you wanted to. I just thought that you might like to get out and be around people, maybe make some friends," I explained.

She smiled a little, and nodded.

"So, that's a yes?"

"Yes," she mock groaned, her smile widening just a bit. "At your place?"

"Yeah, there won't be that many of us. Rosalie, Emmett, a couple of friends from school..."

"Are you sure I wouldn't be intruding?" she asked.

"Of course not," I responded. "Anyway, at some point you're going to move out of this hotel, and having friends in the area will be helpful."

She nodded.

"That is, unless you intend to become a hermit," I added.

"You mean I can't just stay in my shell all the time?" she asked playfully.

It didn't happen often but when Bella smiled it made my day. I wished that I could keep her happy all the time, but I knew that it would be unhealthy. She still had so far to go.

"Do you want me to come get you, or do you think that you can make it to my place on your own?"

"Um... I hate for you to have to come pick me up and bring me back, but... I'm not sure I can navigate Savannah on my own. Even with a GPS."

"Wednesday at six it is then." I stood up and dusted myself off before collecting Veronica. I was beginning to think that Bella might be starting to heal. I left her on the beach with a small smile playing around her lips.

/*/*/*/

I had to admit that having Bella attend the jam session made it a little bit stressful. Tanya and I ran into each other a couple of times on campus, and by "ran into" I mean that I asked Tyrone to find out what her schedule was and I lurked in the hallway both Monday night and Tuesday morning until she showed up. Yes, I was pathetic, but once a man decides that he needs a little female companionship, the act of finding it tends to take on an all-new importance - don't judge.

Tanya was a big Modest Mouse fan, which didn't surprise me. They retained a little bit of that indie vibe that she seemed to like. My issue was that I kind of wanted to please Bella a bit too, and I knew that she probably wouldn't be willing to make many music suggestions. I wondered if she'd join in and sing. Tanya and Rose would also want to work on some original music, and I wasn't sure if Bella would be comfortable with that.

Thus, I found myself in the predicament of trying to please two women at once. I hoped that they got along. I could see Bella being a big part of my life, which meant that her and Tanya forming a friendship would become crucial.

I was quite busy planning things.

"What do you want to do about dinner Wednesday?" Emmet asked from the couch, feet propped on the coffee table while he tried to shoot at some imaginary foe.

Dinner. I hadn't thought about dinner. I shot him a blank look.

"People _are_ coming to our house near dinner time, yes?" he said condescendingly.

"I forgot about dinner," I admitted. "We should do something traditionally Southern for Bella."

"Shrimp and Grits?" Rose piped up from down the hall.

"The way Emmett makes grits, that'll be too heavy," I complained.

"I make the _best_ grits in this house, thank you!" Emmett looked up from the screen and promptly got shot. I snickered.

"Fried chicken?" Rose suggested.

"Never again, Rosie... _Never!" _Emmett stretched his neck around the corner to call down the hall. A small object flew and narrowly missed his face. "You nearly burnt down the house!"

"Not _my_ fault!" she screamed back.

"Those who are easily distracted should not cook with grease," Emmett made the worst attempt ever at some form of an Asian accent.

Rosalie made her way down the hall and leaned up against the counter between the den and the kitchen. Her arms were crossed. I immediately stepped back about a foot to avoid any of her impending wrath that could fly in my direction. I intentionally never asked about the day that Rose set fire to the kitchen. I had an inkling of what might have occurred but the details were completely unnecessary. I noticed that Emmett often disappeared with his woman after eating his favorite meal though, and as a smart boy, I could add two and two.

"Low Country Boil," the words rolled out of my mouth before I'd even thought them.

"Now, that's a good idea." Rosalie visibly relaxed, and looked over her shoulder at me.

"Saves money, too," Emmett chimed in.

"That's not why we're doing it," I groaned. "It's something that she's probably never had before."

Emmett paused his game and turned to face me. He was giving me that look again; the look that says, 'Hey Edward, what do you think you're doing with this woman?'

I levelled my own look back at him in response, 'Not what you're thinking.'

"Am I missing something?" Rosalie snapped.

"No, babe, nothing at all." Emmett went back to his game.

"I've got some phone calls to make," I excused myself, leaving one frustrated Rose in my wake.

Tuesday night was kind of short notice for this kind of thing, but I had faith in my friends and their ability to scrounge together pound upon pound of ingredients. Emmett even dug out the Turkey fryer and the gas burner so that we could make it outside. If we weren't careful, the rest of the neighborhood would show up for dinner and a concert. I had to admit that the concept was exciting. It'd been years since we'd had a Low Country Boil.

After lining up people to bring a few items, I set to work on finding crab. It wasn't a traditional ingredient. Usually, people brought sausage, potatoes, corn, and shrimp, but there were enough of us that I felt like the addition would be good. Rosalie and Emmett were going to handle a couple of sides, most likely some rice and maybe slaw because Emmett had a fascination with cole slaw whether or not it actually went well with the meal.

I wondered if I should ask Bella to bring anything. Everyone had pretty much agreed to bringing beer, which wasn't a shock. Would she want something different? I paced back and forth for a few minutes before finally calling her.

"Hello," she sounded groggy. I checked the clock and realized that it was past eleven. I'd woken her up.

_Crap._

Had it not been Charlotte who connected the call, then I would have hung up and pretended that it never happened. However, Char _would_ rat me out in a heartbeat, especially given the disapproving little tisk that she made under her breath when she put the call through.

"Hi, Bella, did I wake you?" I tried to make my voice less cheerful since people, particularly northerners, are likely to get a bit irritated at a happy voice waking them up. I went for concerned instead.

"Um, I'm not really sure. I must have dozed off," she yawned.

"Sorry, I'll just let you sleep -"

"No, Edward, it's fine. What did you need?" she yawned again, and I really felt like garbage for waking her up. She was obviously exhausted.

"I was calling about tomorrow. We're having dinner beforehand, a Low Country Boil, I think we have all of the ingredients covered, but I didn't want you to feel left out... everyone's bringing something." I sounded like a prepubescent boy. Again.

"A what?" she asked, sounding just a bit more lucid.

"A Pre-," I started, then caught myself. "A Low Country Boil, it's kind of a tradition around here. Friends get together and we each bring one of the ingredients in mass quantities. It's a seafood boil that usually has shrimp, vegetables, and sausage. There's also beer involved - lots of beer."

"Oh," she hesitated for a second and I wondered why. "Um... would it be okay if I, um, brought some soda? Or would that seem out of place?"

"Oh, no, that's fine. Do you want me to come get you a bit early and we can drop by the store?" Choosing soda over beer seemed a bit odd given the activities planned for the evening. Loosening her inhibitions would probably appeal to Bella if she planned on singing. Had she given up drinking? In truth, the way I'd seen her look at her wine glass at the restaurant the day I first met her led me to believe that this wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"Would you?" She sounded shy.

"Of course, so five-thirty?" I asked, still pacing a track into the carpet of my bedroom.

"Five-thirty," she confirmed.

"Okay, sleep well," I said, stopping to sit down on my bed.

"Thank you, goodnight, Edward," she said before hanging up.

I pressed the end button and flopped back onto the comforter. Why did I turn into such an idiot just talking to her?

/*/*/*/

Wednesday evening arrived before I realized that the rest of the day had passed. Esme acquired my contribution to dinner. The crab legs came from her favorite "fish guy" as she called him, so I had to head over to the island early to get them before dinner. I met Bella in the hotel lobby and drove back to town with her. She still seemed happy, which in turn put me at ease and made me happy. I wanted her to have a good time, and get along with my surrogate family.

Emmett and Tyrone already had things set up by the time we made it back to the house. Bella had taken forever to pick out "soda"; she insisted that it was not all supposed to be called "Coke." I rolled my eyes and let her continue thinking that, but all carbonated beverages are Coke. I feared that she was going to give a repeat performance of her argument with the Haagen Dazs display. She ultimately picked up a case of Sprite after meticulously studying labels and mumbling incoherently for several minutes.

The guys had a gas burner set up outside with the largest pot we owned, one of those ones used for frying turkeys, situated over it. A large cooler sat between the door and the patio table. I opened it and dropped Bella's Sprite in to cool. She had already been subjected to an awkward handshake/hug hybrid by Rose, followed by Emmett lifting her off the ground. Tyrone was "checking out her trunk" while she was distracted. He caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Esme came through," I announced, indicating the bag of crab legs in my hand. Emmett put Bella down and practically ran over to me to check them out.

Tyrone took that opportunity to introduce himself to Bella. If she hadn't been in an emotionally vulnerable state I probably would have enjoyed watching her shoot him down. Instead, I worried about whether or not I should have asked her to come or if I should have waited and just introduced her to the girls and Emmett. Ty brought Shatika along and some of their friends from the marching band.

"Edward?" Emmett was waving a hand in front of my face.

"What?"

"Is someone bringing potatoes, or do we need to run back out?" he asked.

"Tanya's bringing potatoes," I responded.

"You are way too distracted, man," he chuckled. "You should resolve that before the lovely Tanya gets here."

"Did I hear my name?" Tanya called as she walked through the backdoor onto the porch.

"Tanya!" I extracted myself from Emmett and rushed over to her. He was close on my heels though.

"I have potatoes," she sang. Emmett held out his hand for the bag, and she passed it to him.

He didn't move. He was waiting for an introduction.

"Emmett, Tanya. Tanya, Emmett." I rather awkwardly attempted to bring myself back into reality where people do things like introduce their friends. So. Not. Smooth.

"Good to meet you, Emmett." Tanya smiled.

"Pleasure's all mine." Emmett gave her a smile that I'm sure would have gotten him slapped had Rose witnessed it.

"Yo T!" Tyrone called from his spot next to Bella. "Come here, girl!"

"This was a great idea, Edward," Tanya said. She brushed her hand across my shoulder and walked over to our other friends who were in the middle of a lively conversation. Bella was smiling and shaking her head. I followed Tanya like a lost puppy dog.

"T, this is Edward's friend, Bella. Bella, this is Tanya," Tyrone made introductions.

Bella held out her hand and Tanya laughed.

"Bella, dear, this is the South; we hug." She pushed Bella's hand to the side and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Bella tentatively wrapped her arms somewhere between Tanya's waist and back and patted gently.

"Edward, get your butt over here and help me cook!" Emmett called. I nodded to my friends and excused myself to help Emmett do what little prep was required for dinner. I lined up the ingredients in order while Emmett fiddled with the gas for the burner. The water was already boiling, so as soon as I had things lined up he dumped in the seasonings and started the potatoes. He set the timer and double checked my work to make sure that I'd put everything in the right order. Emmett was a bit anal about Low Country Boil. The food had to be lined up according to cooking time. Of course, I had the shrimp and the crab legs in the wrong order; he huffed and corrected it.

"Would you mind de-veining these?"

"I'm on it," I said and got to work.

The thing about cooking Low Country Boil is that once the potatoes and sausage start to cook, the rest of the ingredients get added relatively quickly. It's not something that you walk away from for a long period of time, so I didn't get much of a chance before dinner to introduce Bella to my friends since I was playing sous chef to Emmett. Fortunately Tanya and Tyrone seemed to be looking out for her. Tanya was particularly enthusiastic about it; she retrieved drinks for Bella and hovered next to her. Meanwhile, Tyrone's friends were hovering around Tanya in a much more predatory manner.

I needed to make a move on Tanya before someone else snatched her up. She was kind, polite, and sexy. Tyrone decided to mess with me by flirting with her a bit more than he normally would. I glared at him from across the yard.

"Edward, the crab legs!" Emmett shouted frantically from next to the pot. I shook my head and passed them over. "If you're not going to help, don't stand there," he scolded me.

"Sorry, Em" I apologized and went back to the shrimp; I had a handful left to de-vein.

The shrimp went in last and, as soon as they were pink and curled in on themselves, dinner was served. We drained the pot and dumped the contents onto newspaper in the middle of the picnic table. Everyone gathered around and began to pick through and pull out what they wanted. Bella hung back, watching carefully for a few moments before Tanya pulled her down onto the picnic bench.

I slid in between Tanya and Bella at the table. Bella carefully picked through the pile of food, putting very little on her plate at first. She eyed the newspaper suspiciously.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. She cut up a potato and took a bite, chewing slowly. She hummed noncommitally.

"Here, try the shrimp," Tanya leaned over me and dumped a size-able portion of shrimp onto her plate.

Bella popped one into her mouth and hummed. "These are good," she mumbled through a mouthful of shrimp, covering her mouth with her hand.

We lounged a bit and ate before instruments began appearing. It started softly at first, just Tanya and Rose, as predicted, working on something that Rose had been toying around with on Monday. Tanya strummed a guitar and improvised a harmony to Rosalie's song.

The noise level went up a bit when Shatika and Tyrone decided to start playing Edwin McCain, mainly to taunt me. I merely smiled at the two of them. Thankfully, Shatika took over the vocals before Tyrone called all of the stray cats from the neighborhood into our yard. Instead, Tyrone struggled with Rosalie's guitar. He knew the basics, but not enough to really keep up. Eventually, I pulled out Veronica and took pity on him.

It wasn't long after that that a few large drops of rain decided to crash the party. Fortunately, Emmett had a sixth sense about the weather and suggested that Tyrone set up his drums inside the house rather than in the yard. The rest of us shielded instruments as we scrambled inside. Emmett hauled the cooler up closer to the house but left it on the porch. The bottom was slightly muddy and neither of us wanted to deal with cleaning the carpet later.

We settled into the den and took turns picking songs. I held back and watched, chiming in where my voice was needed, until Tanya had a request.

"Ed-ward," she called me as I ducked my head back in after grabbing myself another beer. "You haven't really sung anything. I'm kind of disappointed."

"I'm open to suggestions." I grinned at her.

She paused for a moment before her eyes lit up and she gave a little hop. "I know! 'Slow Show'!"

"Okay," I agreed easily and picked up Veronica. The song was going rather well. I caught myself checking on Bella a lot while I sang; it was the first thing we'd played around with as a group that I didn't think she'd know. She closed her eyes and swayed a little bit, just listening. She seemed happy, and for that I was grateful. Still, I found myself wondering what she was thinking. I pondered it as I sang.

_I wanna hurry home to you  
put on a slow, dumb show for you  
and crack you up  
so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain  
god I'm very, very frightened  
I'll overdo it..._

Then she opened her eyes, meeting mine directly. When I sang the next line, it came out with more intensity than I'd meant, and it shocked me. I hadn't realized I'd been singing to her.

_You know I dreamed about you  
for twenty-nine years before I saw you..._

It felt true, like something snapping into place. I felt like I'd known Bella for much longer than a couple of weeks, like I'd dreamed about her, or I'd known her before. I'd found her physically attractive from the start-I mean, who wouldn't?-but there was something between the two of us that just clicked into place, and when I sang to her it felt right. The only problem was that I couldn't ask her for anything. She was still Viola, lost at sea and washed up on a foreign shore. It would be ungentlemanly of me to ask for anything, so I wouldn't. I finished the song, looked away, and tried to lock up that feeling by refocusing myself on Tanya.

"I love that song," Tanya sighed.

I slunk off to the kitchen and downed my beer. I fought with myself for a bit longer before rejoining the group. Tanya was singing one of my songs. She had an arm around Bella and swayed a bit back and forth. The two really were getting along rather well. The song wound down, and Rosalie set down her guitar.

"Very nice." I nodded at Tanya.

"Rose told us there wasn't a chance of getting you to sing any of the songs from your band," Bella said.

"I volunteered since I'm the only Banana Sidecar fan." Tanya giggled a bit. She was obviously feeling a bit warm and fuzzy. She was curled around Bella, who didn't seem to mind. Tyrone was watching the two of them intently.

"Whose turn is it?" Rose asked. "Shatika?"

"Oh, hell if I know," Shatika said.

"It's Tanya's turn to pick," Bella volunteered.

"Oh! I know!" Tanya jumped up. "Edward, you have to help me on this! Do you have a capo?" Tanya was suddenly shouting everything and jumping up and down like a little kid.

"I do," I answered. "What do you want to sing?"

"'You and I'!" she shouted.

I started fishing through Veronica's case for my capo.

"You can't play that on a guitar; it's meant for a ukulele," Tyrone complained.

"I can make it sound..."

"I have a ukulele," Emmett piped up.

Rose and I turned to look at him in unison.

"You have a ukulele?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Why?" she asked.

"Chicks dig it."

"Then why is this the first I'm hearing about it?" Rose sounded offended.

"Well, it's kind of a cliché, the big guy playing a tiny ukulele. I didn't figure you'd go for cliché, so I haven't pulled it out around you," he defended.

"Around _her_? I'm your best friend, and I never knew you played an instrument," I scoffed.

"I picked it up while you were on tour; haven't touched it much since," he said.

"Well, go get it," Shatika ordered. "I want to see this; maybe I'll steal you from Rosie over there, baby."

"You know you're my girl, Shatika," Emmett joked before he ran off to his room to retrieve his instrument.

"You think you know somebody..." Rose commented.

Emmett returned with a small, dusty case and opened it up. The ukulele was horribly out of tune. He fumbled with it for a few minutes; the rest of us just watched until I finally took pity on him and tuned it. However, sure enough, Emmett actually knew how to play it.

Tanya started with a playful little smile on her face. She was singing to Bella again.

_Don't you worry there, my honey,  
we might not have any money  
but we've got our love to pay the bills_

_Maybe I think you're cute and funny,  
maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you,  
if you know what I mean._

I waited patiently for my part. She danced around a bit, blonde hair swinging around her.

I grabbed her hand, "_Well, you might be a bit confused_."

"_And you might be a little bit bruised_," she sang back at me, playfully pulling my arm.

"_But baby, how we spoon like no one else..._" I spun Tanya around in front of me and sang the next part into her hair, "_so I will help you read those books_."

She stayed in front of me for another moment or two, but when we reached the chorus she grabbed Shatika and Bella by the hands. Shatika, Rose, and Emmett sang it with us.

_Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France  
let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters  
and teach them how to dance  
let's get rich and build our house on a mountain  
making everybody look like ants  
from way up there you and I, you and I, you and I..._

Bella was humming along quietly by the end. However, she quickly returned to the couch. Tyrone magically appeared with a couple of beers and handed one to me. I thanked him and drank it a bit too quickly.

Tanya and Rose had moved on to shots. The two were becoming more and more giggly by the minute. Shatika was laughing _at_ them more than _with_ them as she nursed one of Bella's cans of Sprite. Bella appeared to be simply observing for the moment. She was starting to look a bit tired, and I regretted having driven her over. It was highly unlikely that I'd be able to drive her back. However, that was seeming less and less like a bad thing.

"Bella, come sing with me," Tanya slurred slightly as she hung onto the slightly smaller woman. Bella shot an uncomfortable glance at me. I smiled, trying to reassure her.

"I don't really know anything that you're singing," Bella stalled.

"You'll know this one," Tanya smiled. "Anyone up for 'Float On'?"

I found myself smiling at the predictability that was Tanya's musical taste.

"Edward, 'Float On'?" Tanya's smile broadened when she noticed that I'd been inadvertently staring at her. The woman was entirely too gorgeous. The song wasn't a favorite of mine, but I was helpless to resist whatever she asked, as evidenced by the fact that I'd agreed to sing "Slow Show," which wasn't really my speed and resulted in that awkward moment between Bella and myself. I'd definitely be mulling that one over later.

_I dreamed about you for twenty nine years before I saw you..._

"Edward?" Tanya snapped her fingers in front of my face.

_How many beers did I drink? _

_Five? _

_Yeah, five._

"Yeah, sounds good," I agreed as soon as I remembered the question.

Tyrone rolled his eyes and started playing. I picked up my guitar and joined in before taking the lead vocal line. Our version was going to sound nothing like the original since I couldn't even attempt to sound like Isaac Brock.

_I backed my car into a cop car, the other day._

_Well he just drove off, sometimes life's okay._

Tanya leaned heavily on me and picked up the second line in a gravely alto, "I ran my mouth off a bit too much, oh what did I say. Well you just laughed it off, it was all okay." She pulled Bella to her other side, "Bella, the chorus!" she announced.

Bella looked terrified.

"I, um, I don't know it," she eked out.

"_And we'll all float on, okay_

_And we'll all float on, okay,_" I supplied, wanting to help her out.

"_And we'll all float on, okay_

_and we'll all float on anyway?_" Bella asked.

I nodded and started the next verse. Tanya was swaying between the two of us, leaning more towards Bella. She almost sang to Bella.

"Bella!" Tanya yelled when we hit the chorus. She was ready this time.

_And we'll all float on, okay._

_And we'll all float on, okay._

_And we'll all float on, okay._

I caught her eye before the next line because it changed. Bella smiled and quickly adjusted.

"_Alright don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy._" Tanya separated herself from me and led Bella off singing and dancing. I continue to play, dropping out of the song vocally and watched. I figured out what Tanya was doing. She had a message for Bella: everything was going to be okay. By the end of the song Bella was flushed and giggling like a kid. Tanya pulled her into a hug and spun her around. I turned to Tyrone and Shatika, both of whom shrugged.

Emmett and Rose slunk off to his room during the song. I was willing to bet that we'd bored Rose. She liked her music a little more mainstream and generally favored older songs with a more polished feel. If I knew anything about Emmett though, it was that he was a good host and would probably be returning before too long.

"My turn to pick!" Shatika piped up before Tanya could throw out another song suggestion. I didn't recognize the song that she wanted to sing, but Tanya did. I passed the guitar to her and watched Tanya fumble around for a minute before getting it right.

Bella was tapping out the rhythm by stomping her feet while she swayed slightly. My brain brought me back to that stupid song lyric. What was it exactly that made me feel odd? Were my feelings for Bella more in line with love than friendship? Was that why singing "Slow Show" had felt right and wrong at the same time?

Bella cocked her head to the side and looked at me.

I was staring again. Crap.

"Anyone want a drink?" I asked over the music. Tyrone and Tanya both nodded. "Bella?" I prompted.

"Just some water, please," she answered.

Shatika was shooting me a death glare, but I had to find an excuse to get out of the room and stop staring at both Bella and Tanya. The two were going to be the death of me. I slunk out to the porch and pulled drinks out of the cooler.

"You should really pick one or the other, you know," Rose's voice floated from behind me. She had Emmett's window open. I smelled smoke and cocked my head to the side. Rose had quit smoking, or so I thought. She hid something as I got closer.

"Rose, are you smoking?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Don't know what you're talking about..." she hummed.

"Rose," I chided.

"Only when I'm drunk, and bored, and my stupid boyfriend refuses to come to bed because we have company," she whined.

I shook my head. "You're going to ruin your voice."

"Oh, get over it." She stuck out her tongue. "Besides, you're changing the subject. You need to pick: Bella or Tanya. Choose wisely, grasshopper," she teased before giggling and closing the window.

"Yep, she's drunk," I laughed to myself and went back inside with the drinks.

I found that things had wound down significantly in my absence. Shatika, who was sober, was packing Tyronne up to head back to the dorms, their friends had already left. Suddenly I felt like a complete and utter ass. I'd most certainly consumed too much alcohol to drive Bella back to the hotel, and people were leaving.

"Bell-la, you should stay," Tanya slurred.

"The couch folds out, or you could take my room," I volunteered.

"I would really like to get back," she said quietly, biting her lip after her admission.

"Do you want to take my car?" I asked. I was concerned about whether or not she could make it back to Tybee on her own in the dark, but if she wanted my car then she could take it.

"Does Bella need a ride?" Shatika halted on her way out the door.

"Yeah, but she'ssss all the way on Tybee," Tanya said as she flopped down on the couch.

"I don't mind," Shatika said. "I'll just charge Tyrone for the extra gas, cause he's gonna fall asleep in the car anyway."

"You will not, woman," Tyrone protested.

"Oh hush, Ty, you aren't even going to remember this conversation by the time we get to campus." Shatika less-than-gently smacked Tyrone on the back of the head.

"I'll give you gas money; it's not a problem," Bella said.

"I'm going to collect it from Ty anyway. It's the benefit of being the designated driver: I get to take his money tonight and then again tomorrow morning."

"You're sure you don't mind?" Bella verified.

"Come on, girl, let's get you home." Shatika smiled warmly and gestured toward the door.

"Well, that's settled. Goodnight, Edward, Tan-" Before Bella could finish, Tanya had jumped off the couch and wrapped her into a hug.

"Call me, okay?" Tanya searched around for paper but ultimately gave up. "I'll have Edward give you my number."

"Okay." Bella smiled and followed Shatika out the door.

"Goodnight," I called after them.

When I closed the door, Tanya had resumed her spot on the couch.

"Are you staying?" I asked.

"Yes, because I am in no condition to operate a motor vehicle," she deadpanned before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"I'm off to bed," Emmett announced. I merely nodded in response before taking a seat next to Tanya.

"Night, Em," Tanya sang like a doorbell. "Night, Em," she repeated.

"Are you ready for bed?" I chuckled.

"Uh huh." She leaned her head onto my shoulder and snuggled up to me. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her a bit closer. She hummed in response, and I took it as encouragement.

I kissed the top of her head, burying my nose in her fruit scented hair. She didn't object, so I ran a hand gently down her side and found a sliver of skin between her jeans and T-shirt. I didn't move my hand under her shirt but let it settle there where I could feel her warm skin against mine. She hummed again and burrowed into my chest. I grew bolder after a few moments and decided to kiss her, really kiss her. I repositioned us so that we were facing each other only to find that her head flopped uncontrollably to the side.

She was asleep.

I was relieved that Emmett had already gone to bed and was, therefore, not a witness to my embarrassing drunk groping of the intoxicated, sleeping woman on our couch. I carefully laid her down on the couch and tucked a blanket around her. The walk to my room was cold and lonely, as was my bed.

Fortunately, I wasn't awake long enough to think about it too much.

* * *

******_Music:_**

"Drive" by Incubus  
"Slow Show" by The National  
"You and I" by Ingrid Michaelson  
"Float On" by Modest Mouse


	4. Chapter 4

_**WARNING:**__ Heartfail ahead; read at your own risk._

_**BPOV**_

Time seemed to move in spurts, as it often does when there is nothing really pressing on the schedule. Some days seemed to fly by while others crept along at a snail's pace. Occasionally, I felt like I was trapped in a very luxurious prison – admittedly, of my own making. Most of the time, however, I was content in my cozy little cocoon overlooking the ocean. Sometimes I watched the waves ebb and flow, thinking that my days seemed to mirror them, swaying back and forth in a never-ending pattern that could be simultaneously mind-numbing and relaxing.

The most memorable event had been the jam session at Edward and Emmett's place. I had been a little nervous about going since I wouldn't know anyone but Edward. I had met Emmett briefly, and I knew that his girlfriend, Rosalie, worked with Edward at Savannah Smiles. That didn't really count, though, since I had never really spent any time with either of them. And there were also the people from the college where Edward went to school who I knew were much younger than I was. My apprehension turned out to be unwarranted. In the end, it was a wonderful evening. Edward's friends were really nice, and they all made me feel welcome. Especially Tanya. She seemed to really like me and made sure I was included in everything-even the sing-along. What could have been terribly awkward ended up being a lot of fun-and musically educational. I was unfamiliar with the indie music Tanya and some others seemed to favor, but I had to admit that it had started to grow on me-especially the way Edward played and sang it. He could probably sing the phone book, and I would like it.

Before I knew it, a week and a half had gone by, and it was the morning of my appointment at the OB's office. I woke earlier than necessary, my body's inner clock superseded by the excitement of receiving confirmation that I was going to be a mother. A single mother, but a mother nonetheless.

I took a long, leisurely shower and blow-dried my hair before dressing in a white baby doll tee, dark blue shorts, and white sandals. It was still a bit early for breakfast, and I wasn't really hungry yet, so I stood for a few minutes on my balcony watching the ocean and listening to the waves. There was a soft breeze that ruffled my hair from time to time, just enough that I knew I would need to brush it again before going down to breakfast.

When my stomach finally started to rumble, I went inside and closed out the brisk sea air. I fixed my hair again and grabbed a book and my key card before stepping out into the hallway. The elevator ride down made my stomach lurch, and I made my way to the Dolphin Reef for the breakfast buffet.

I was practically alone-other than the morning staff. There was very little noise above the metallic percussion of the hot trays of food being set out for the hotel guests who trickled in on this early Monday morning. I set my book down at a table near the windows and filled my plate, avoiding the greasier foods and opting for a lot of fruits and whole grains.

As always, the food was delicious, and I was halfway through my meal before the dining room really started to fill. I returned several smiles as people passed me with their own plates, chattering at each other about their plans for the day. I had no one to share my plans with today, and for a moment, the loneliness threatened to crush me down. But then I thought of my precious little one who would be with me, sharing all my days in another six months or so.

I finished my breakfast and made my way to the quiet hotel lobby where the comfy chairs sat. I had a lot of time to kill before my two o'clock appointment, so I had decided to read the new book I found at a local bookstore. I settled into the most secluded chair and opened to the first chapter.  
The hours passed; people came and went, but I barely registered their presence as I became more and more engrossed in the tale of a terrorist plot involving a nuclear bomb lost somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean near Tybee Island.

Without warning, I felt a sharp pain in my abdominal area that took my breath away for a few seconds. It passed quickly, and I returned to my book. About ten minutes later, though, I felt the same pain again, this time a little bit longer. I wondered if maybe I had eaten something that hadn't agreed with me, but I didn't have any urge to go to the bathroom, so I settled myself more comfortably into the cushy seat and started to read again.

When it happened again a few minutes later and once more a few minutes after that, I began to worry. I had begun to notice that the pains felt less and less like gastrointestinal cramps but more and more like menstrual cramps.

_This can't be happening_, I thought.

The fifth time I felt them, I decided to go to the bathroom and check if I was bleeding. I hadn't felt any wetness, but I had been concentrating so much on the pains that I hadn't really thought about bleeding until then. A quick trip to the ladies room showed not even a little spotting, but while I was there, I had the worst pain of all. It left me gasping for breath, and I couldn't deny that _something_wasn't right. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I couldn't stay in the bathroom all day. And it finally occurred to me that I should probably find a hospital and have it checked out. Unfortunately, I didn't really know where the nearest hospital was, and I was in no state to try to find it.

I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom with a half-formed idea to get my phone from upstairs and call Edward or Tanya to see if they could come get me. If not, then I would have the front desk call a cab to take me there.

As luck would have it, the first person I saw when I got back to the lobby was Edward. He was tucking an envelope into his shirt pocket, and I almost sobbed with relief when I remembered that he came to pick up his paycheck on Mondays.

"Edward," I called.

He turned with a smile on his face… until he saw me.

"Bella, are you okay?" he said, rushing to my side and cupping my elbow with his hand.

I must've looked like I was about to faint; I certainly felt like it. I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to scream at him, "Would I need to go to the hospital if I was okay?" But he didn't know about my need, so instead, I shook my head and asked, "Can you take me to a hospital?"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

I just shook my head again and asked if he would take me.

"Of course," he said, glancing toward the front desk at Charlotte who was watching us with an odd expression on her face. "Can you tell me what's wrong, Bella? Are you hurt?"

His eyes raked me up and down, searching for some sign of injury, as his hands fluttered around my shoulders and arms. It seemed like he wanted to touch me to see where I was hurt.

I shook my head again and blurted, "I'm pregnant, and I think I'm hav– I think I'm losing the baby." The last word was just a whisper as my heart broke at the thought of losing this last connection to my husband.

I followed Edward's gaze to the front desk where Charlotte stood with her mouth hanging open and her eyes as big as saucers. When she realized I had seen her, she snapped her mouth shut and turned back to her computer. Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me to the chair closest to the front doors. Another cramp gripped my abdomen as he gently urged me to sit.

"I'm going to go get my car," he said. "Wait right here, okay?"

I nodded wordlessly and sat in the chair, clutching my arms to my belly as if that would stop the pain, while Edward sprinted out the hotel entrance to the parking lot. Although it couldn't have been more than five minutes, it felt like I sat there at least an hour. Then Edward was back, leading me out to an old silver Volvo which stood idling beside the curb in front of the valet stand. He helped me into the passenger side and was just about to slide in and shut his own door when it suddenly occurred to me that I had no ID with me.

"Where is it?" he asked when I told him.

I described where I had left my purse and handed him my key card. As he raced back into the hotel, I sat in the car and wondered at my ability to recall things so clearly during this moment of crisis. It was so different from my last catastrophe when I had barely been able to recall my own name.

He was back sooner than I expected, handing me my things and speeding out of the driveway. I don't remember much about the drive to the hospital in Savannah, other than the fact that Edward drove much faster than I'd ever seen him go before and that he kept glancing over at me and asking if I was okay. Not wanting to worry him any more than I already had, I simply nodded and said, "Yes."

When we got to the hospital, he parked in the first available space closest to the ER entrance. He went with me up to the window where I gave my ID and insurance information to the receptionist. I explained my symptoms to her, and she asked if I was bleeding. When I answered negatively, she just nodded and entered it into the computer. She told me I could have a seat in the waiting room, and they would get to me as soon as they could.

Edward walked me over to the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting room. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed gently. I rested my head on his shoulder and fought not to cry. The waiting room wasn't very crowded, but it still took an hour or more before they called me back to take my vitals. I stood to follow the nurse but stopped when I realized Edward was still seated.

"Did you want me to come with you?" he asked when I just stared at him. I must have looked panicked because his tone was soft like the kind someone might use with a frightened animal.

"Yes," I said, adding silently, _I'm scared_.

He placed his hand on my back and followed me into the triage area.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said to Edward. "Relatives only."

"I'm her fiancé," Edward lied smoothly.

She pursed her lips but nodded and allowed him to come with me. After she recorded my blood pressure, temperature, and pulse, the nurse asked me what my symptoms were. I told her what I had told the receptionist. She asked some questions about my family's medical history and then gave me a plastic cup and a little white packet before pointing me in the direction of the bathroom. I followed her instructions and placed the urine sample in the appropriate spot before returning to the curtained area where Edward waited for me. He stood awkwardly beside the bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, and I suddenly realized that he kept asking because he didn't know what else to do – just like the night we first saw each other – when he he'd first asked if I was okay.

I tried to smile, to let him know not to worry too much, and took his hand in mine. I needed to feel a connection to _someone_at that moment. I knew I was losing the last connection I had to my hus—to Jake.

Edward pulled me into a hug and softly kissed my forehead before releasing me. Our hands stayed linked between us.

A few minutes later, the nurse came back and handed me a hospital gown. "Put that on, and I'll be back to get a blood sample from you. Then Dr. Staten will come do a pelvic exam," she said, pulling the curtains around the bed closed.

Edward and I shared one panicked look before he dropped my hand, parted the curtain, and said, "I'll just wait out here."

My laughter at the expression on his face before the curtains closed in front of it sounded almost hysterical to my ears.

I didn't waste any time changing into the ugly, uncomfortable hospital gown. My clothes were folded at the head of the bed, and I perched on the edge before I called, "You can come back now."

Edward slipped in between the flaps of the curtains and came to stand beside me again. The nurse wasn't far behind him, saying, "Mrs. Black?" just seconds before she stepped into the confines of the curtains.

She made quick work of securing a rubber strap around my left bicep and sticking a long needle attached to a plastic cup-like thing into my vein. It stung a little. She attached first one vial and then another. Then she pressed a cotton ball over the puncture site and slipped the needle out. I hardly felt it at all. Securing a strip of medical tape over the cotton, she said, "Dr. Staten will be right in," and then released the tourniquet.

No more than thirty seconds after she had left, a deep male voice said my name and then parted the curtains. He introduced himself and then asked me my symptoms just like everyone else had.

I nearly screamed at him to look on the chart. Somehow I managed to stay calm and relay the information he needed. He asked when my last period had been and if anything traumatic had happened recently. I explained about my husband's death which caused him to raise an eyebrow at Edward, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Well, we are going to do a pelvic exam just to rule out any problems."

He left the cloth enclosure, and Edward quickly asked, "Bella, would you like me to leave?"

Under normal circumstances, I would've said yes, but I just didn't think I could deal with this by myself. I knew it was a thoroughly awkward situation for Edward, but I selfishly asked him to stay. When he hesitated, I said, "Just stay up here by my head and look at me."

"Well, that won't be hard to do," he joked. Then turning serious, he said, "If you're sure…"

"Please?"

He nodded and moved up to the head of the bed. Dr. Staten returned with a rolling stool to sit on, the nurse, and all the necessary tools for the pelvic exam. Edward's eyes widened when he saw the speculum, so I grabbed his hand and whispered, "Just look at me."

As the doctor began his examination, it suddenly hit me that I was having a gynecological procedure done in the presence of a man I had known for barely five weeks. As much as I liked Edward and as much as I loved Jacob, I was abruptly angry at them both. Mostly at Jacob for leaving me to go through all of this on my own, but also at Edward for being the one to witness so many of my low points. I closed my eyes, unable to look at Edward during such an exposed moment. But I could still feel his eyes on me.

Edward squeezed my hand in what I assumed was supposed to be an effort to offer me some comfort. Instead, if angered me further. I didn't need to be reminded that he was present for this. I felt exposed and vulnerable. I bit my lip to prevent myself from snapping at him. Edward was trying to be a good friend even in such an awkward situation.

When the doctor was finished, he and the nurse left, telling me that I could get dressed again. Edward helped me sit up, squeezed my hand, and then followed them out so I could change in privacy. I was back in my shorts and tee in no time and pulled the curtain opened before settling back on the bed. Edward stood beside me, somewhat awkwardly this time.

"Thank you," I said, at a loss for what else to say.

"Sure."

The doctor was back soon, without the nurse this time, as another cramp hit me.

"Well, Mrs. Black, I am happy to tell you that everything seems normal," he said. "We'll have to wait for the results on the blood tests to be one hundred percent certain."

"Then why—" How could this cramping be normal?

"The urine test was negative," he said. "But—" he glanced down at the chart he held. "The blood test will confirm it, but it appears that you weren't pregnant."

"You're wrong," I said.

"Mrs. Black, did you have a positive pregnancy test prior to the cramping?"

I glared defensively at him as if he had caught me in a lie. I had never actually had a test; that was supposed to happen that afternoon at the OB's. Finally I shook my head and mumbled, "No, I never actually took one."

He nodded as if he had expected that response. "Sometimes women who suffer from severe stress and trauma, such as the loss of a loved one, experience missed periods," he said, sounding like he was reading it from a medical pamphlet.

"Why the cramps then?" I challenged.

"I suspect that you will have your period in the next day or so."

"No." He was wrong. He had to be.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Black." He paused as if unsure what else to say.

I just stared at him while my mind screamed, _Why are you sorry? What's it to you? It's not your baby, your last connection to everything in the world!_

"We'll call you if anything abnormal shows up in the blood work," he said. "We are running an hCG level, but the urinalysis is ninety-nine percent accurate. It's doubtful that the blood tests will show that you're pregnant. I will, of course, call you if the tests find anything different."

I nodded, not caring one way or another. What difference would it make? Everything I had to live for was gone now. It had all been ripped away. Again.

I heard the doctor's voice again, but I didn't comprehend what he said until Edward answered, "Yes, I'm driving her back."

The doctor nodded, apologized again, and then left.

"Bella, are you ready to go?" Edward asked when I didn't move.

I nodded again and allowed him to lead me out to the parking lot to his silver Volvo. We rode in near silence, the radio turned down so low it was barely a hum.

"Have you eaten?" Edward asked as we passed a fast food restaurant.

"I had breakfast."

"Bella, that was at least six hours ago." He waited for me to respond. When I didn't, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Do you want to come over to my place?"

"No."

He sighed in frustration.

"Just take me to the hotel," I said.

He nodded and said, "Okay."

When we got back to the Ocean Plaza, he asked if I needed him to help me up to my room.

"No," I said. "Thank you."

"Are you going to be okay?"

I finally looked at him. His face was tense with worry for me.

_I will never be okay again,_I thought but said, "I'm just going to rest in my room."

"You sure?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Edward. I couldn't have made it through this day without you."

"Are you sure that I can't do anything else?" he asked.

I shook my head.

He searched my face for a moment before nodding. He tried to smile and offered, "Call me if you need anything."

I assured him that I would. I lied. But he believed me and left me at the hotel entrance. He said that he had some errands to run but that his phone would be on in case I needed anything. I nodded again and turned toward the elevator.

I don't remember going up to my room, but when I got there, I shut the door and made my way into the bedroom. The digital clock showed that it was almost one thirty in the afternoon. I had an OB appointment in a half hour.

I dialed the number of the doctor's office.

When the receptionist answered, I said, "This is Bella Black. I have a two o'clock appointment, but I need to cancel it."

"Would you like to reschedule, Mrs. Black?" she asked.

"No."

"May I ask the reason for the cancellation?"

"I'm not pregnant," I said and pushed the OFF button. I collapsed onto the bed, clutching my phone, curled into the fetal position, and sobbed.

)ooOOoo(

"How long has she been here, Pete?" I heard behind me several hours later.

The bartender mumbled something in return. I turned slowly and saw Edward coming up beside me. I only caught a flash of his expression – disappointment? – before he smiled at me, tight around the corners of his mouth.

"Edward!" I called brightly, motioning him closer.

"Hey, Bella," he said softly, taking one step nearer to me.

I tipped my shot glass back, barely feeling the burn as the liquor slid down my throat. I motioned with the glass at the bartender, silently asking for another.

Edward murmured something as the bartender poured more vodka into my tiny glass. They really needed to get larger glasses. I would have to find the manager and let him know.

I felt Edward's hand on my shoulder as I slung back this new drink and smiled at him, squinting to see him more clearly. "What brings you here?" I asked, wiggling my glass above the bar again.

"I was coming in for my shift," he said, staring intently at me.

"Oh, so I guess you can't have a drink with me?"

He shook his head slowly, and somehow it didn't seem like he was saying "no" but rather that he might be upset – with me?

I rubbed my forehead, trying to make sense of his actions, and wobbled a little on the barstool. They should get proper chairs here. I would have to mention that to the manager as well.  
I looked down at my glass, ready to take another drink, but it was empty this time. I tapped it sharply on the smooth wood.

"Bella, don't you think you've had enough to drink?" Edward asked.

I looked back at him, still squinting, and shook my head. "There isn't enough liquor in the world for me tonight." Then I turned to the bartender and said, "I need another," since he clearly wasn't getting the message of the glass.

"Why don't I help you up to your room, Bella?" Edward said, forestalling whatever the bartender was going to say.

"Yes, please," I answered, thinking that I could drink even more there – drink until I passed into that blessed oblivion. I had a nice in-room wet bar and – I couldn't drink there. Alice had made sure of that. Silly Alice; she had no idea how badly or why I needed to drink now. I hadn't told her about – No, I can't think about that. I _won't_think about that now. And I couldn't drink in my room anyway because –

"They'd know, Edward," I whispered. "They can't see me like this," I told him, grabbing onto his button down shirt to steady myself.

"Who can't?" he asked, putting both hands on my shoulders to keep me upright.

"The maids," I said, exasperated. Couldn't he follow a simple conversation tonight? "I can't sleep here tonight. They'll know, and I can't let them know," I insisted.

"Bella…"

"But I don't have anywhere to go," I said. But I _did_have somewhere. "I have a house, you know," I told him. "Here on Tybee. We bought a house together."

I let go of Edward's shirt and patted my hips and rear. My keys were here somewhere.

"Bella, I really think you should –"

"They can't see me. I'll just go to my house."

I slid unsteadily off the barstool and shoved my hands into my jeans pocket. No keys. And my back pocket only had the key card to my room and my Visa card. "Damn," I said. "I guess you'd better help me up to my room so I can get my keys," I said, patting Edward's shoulder.

"Bella, you're not driving anywhere tonight."

"But I can't stay here, Edward. I just – I can't!"

He and the bartender exchanged words and then Edward led me away from the bar.

"Where are we going?" I asked, half-protesting. I couldn't go up to my room.

"I know you can't, Bella," he said, answering my thought. _Is he a mind reader?_

He continued, "Come on, I'll take care of you."

I smiled at Edward, coasting along with him as he led me… wherever he was leading me.  
"You're so good to me, Edward," I murmured, leaning my head on his shoulder.

)ooOOoo(

Harsh light, stabbing sharp little knives into my brain through my eyes, made me squint. I snapped them shut and lay still, listening to the muffled sounds in the distance. Dishes clinking, chairs scraping across linoleum, hushed voices – all the normal sounds of a home. Sounds I hadn't heard in over three months. If it weren't for the throbbing in my head and the pasty feeling in my mouth, I would swear I was dreaming.

I opened my eyes just a slit and slowly peered around the room. I lay on off-white sheets – definitely not the pristine white of the hotel. The window letting in the light daggers was covered in creamy, half-opened miniblinds. The walls reminded me of French vanilla and were bare of any decoration. Small lamps peeked just above the level of the mattress. Turning my head to the side, I noticed that the lamp nearest me stood on an uncluttered off-white table with dark brown drawers. Across the room stood a matching dresser and a dark brown desk holding a computer. The comforter tucked up to my waist was dark brown with light cream stripes.

_Oh, my G_ – I was in Edward's room. I recognized all the brown and cream from the night of the jam session when Rose let me use his bathroom. _I slept with Edward?_

I sat up in shock, but the headache intensified, and I suddenly felt dizzy. I laid back down, slapping my hands over my forehead and eyes.

What have I _done_?

The door opened just a crack, and I peeked out from under my hand.

Edward's eyes peeked around the door, followed by the rest of him when he saw that I was awake. He held up a steaming mug, offering it to me.

I sat up slowly, tugging the sheets up with me, and leaned back against the pillows. I reached for the cup, realizing that I still had my tank top on. But where were my jeans?

Edward handed me the coffee and asked me how I was.

"I'm…" I wasn't really sure how to answer that. I knew I had gotten completely trashed the night before, but I wasn't sure just how I had ended up in Edward's room. Without my pants on. I decided that I needed a few more details before I could decide how I was this morning.

"Did we…?" I couldn't verbalize it.

He furrowed his brows in confusion at my half-question. And I knew the instant that he realized what I was asking. He raised his hands as if in surrender and took a couple of steps back toward the door.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

I sighed in relief and took a sip of the hot coffee.

"I slept on the couch," he explained. "And Rose got you… um… ready for bed." He indicated my jeans which were folded on top of his dresser.

Thank goodness Rosalie had chosen to stay over with Emmett last night. It was bad enough that Edward had seen me in a hospital gown and drunk off my butt. I wasn't sure how I would handle him seeing me stripped to my underwear as well.

I took another sip of coffee and asked the next most important question . "How did I get here?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand before answering my question with one of his own. "What do you remember about last night?"

Sipping again, I thought back. I had gone downstairs to eat but had wandered into the bar instead of the restaurant. Starting with a screwdriver, I had quickly progressed to straight vodka shots. Although I had no idea how many I'd had, I vaguely remembered Edward coming into the bar shortly before the bartender cut me off. The rest of the night was pretty fuzzy.

I told all of this to Edward who nodded as though not surprised. And then he filled in the blanks…

"I offered to help you up to your room, but you insisted that you couldn't sleep there… Something about the maids couldn't see you?" He shook his head, puzzled.

I blushed and groaned. "Yeah, don't ask. It's just… stupid, drunken… whatever."

"Fair enough," he said with a slight smile. "And then you decided to drive to _your house?_"

I chuckled at the way each of his details seemed to end with a question mark. I must have confused him last night.

"Did I really say that?" I asked.

"Yeah." He smiled again. "You said you have a house on Tybee and that you'd just sleep there. But you couldn't find your keys –"

"I do have a house. We bought it… a while ago," I finished uncomfortably.

He nodded and then said, "Well, it was obvious that you'd had more than enough to drink…" He trailed off, then muttered something I couldn't quite hear. I did catch the name _Peter_ and the words _irresponsible jackass_in the middle of his mumbled rant.

"So you brought me here." It wasn't a question anymore. It was clear that my friend Edward had taken care of me, just as he had yesterday morning. When my world had fallen apart all over again.

Which reminded me… "Is Rose still here?" I asked, not knowing how late in the day it was, and wanting to thank her for helping me – us – out last night.

"No, she left this morning."

"_This morning? _You mean…"

Edward grinned and affirmed, "Yeah, you slept the whole morning."

I groaned again. "It's fine, Bella," he said. "You had a rough day yesterday."

"Yeah." I took another sip of coffee.

Neither of us said anything for at least a minute. We just stared at each other in a slightly awkward silence. My hungover brain couldn't seem to form any more coherent thoughts.

Edward finally broke the silence. "I guess you probably want to get dressed, huh?"

"Yeah," I said, latching onto his idea to end the staring contest.

I set my coffee cup on the nightstand as he retreated from the room and pulled the door shut behind himself. I slid out of the bed and grabbed my jeans from the dresser before heading into the bathroom to pee and dress.

And that's when the doctor's prediction came to be. The cramps from yesterday really were the harbinger of my long-overdue period. And I was completely unprepared.

Without any other resources to hand, I stuffed a wad of toilet paper between my legs and pulled up my underwear. I didn't really think I would find anything useful in Edward's cabinets, but I figured it was worth a try. I knelt down and peeked in all the cabinets and drawers. Nothing. But I noticed that he was very neat and tidy.

Sighing heavily, I walked out of the bathroom and peeked around the bedroom door to call Edward's name. I prayed that I wouldn't blush, but I knew it was a futile hope. If ever there was a time to be red with embarrassment, this was it.

He came to the door quickly, eyebrows raised at the anxious tone of my voice and, I'm sure, the look on my face.

I tried to will the blush away. Of course, it didn't work, so I decided to just plunge ahead and ask, "Is it possible that Rose might've left behind some… um… " But then I couldn't.

Edward's puzzled expression would've been comical under any other circumstances. In this case, however, it simply added to my mortification.

"Oh!" he finally responded, and his eyebrows shot up as he realized what I was too embarrassed to ask outright. "Let me ask Emmett."

I wished I could bury my burning face in the door as he turned to find Emmett and ask if Rose kept any feminine sanitary products in their apartment.

Could this day get any more embarrassing?

He was back in less than a minute, a pad in one hand and a tampon in the other. I hadn't thought it possible, but I felt my face get even redder as he said, "Um... here you go–" I snatched them from his hand and hid them behind my back "– and I'll be in the kitchen when you're… um…"

"Can I have some toast?" I asked, saving us both from further embarrassment.

"Toast. Coming right up!" He turned around and called over his shoulder, "see you in a few," as I shut the bedroom door behind him.

I slumped down on the bed, staring at the covers, wishing they could shelter me from the drama that had become my life. Although I really needed a shower, I had no change of clothes, and I was uncomfortable enough with the situation as it was. No sense making it worse by taking a shower in Edward's bathroom while he was making me toast and, no doubt, trying _not_to think of the girlie products he had just delivered to me.

Straightening up, I took another sip of my cooling coffee before crossing to the bathroom. I felt my abdomen begin to cramp, and as soon as I spotted the pad and tampon on the countertop, the reason I needed them in the first place crashed over me, this time on an emotional level. I realized I was crying again, grieving for the little piece of Jake I had thought I would get to hold onto.

_It's not fair!_I screamed silently.

If I couldn't have my sun anymore, why couldn't I at least have a ray of him? Was it too much to want that small connection? But that wasn't to be.

I stared at myself in the mirror, allowing the feelings to rush over, around, and through me. For just a few moments more, I wallowed in them. And then I realized that – even without a baby to nurture and care for – I still had things to live for.

Although I had let myself go last night and reverted to my destructive coping mechanism from four months prior, I couldn't continue to do that to myself or my friends. I knew that Alice would be devastated when she learned what I had done. And Edward had been disappointed when he found me so drunk; I remembered the look in his eyes. And Tanya… She was my newest friend, and although she didn't know the whole story, she seemed to respect or maybe admire me for coping with my tragedy as well as she thought I was.

Even more importantly than my friends, however, I needed to live for myself. I was still young, and I had a career I really enjoyed. Although I had been neglecting it of late, I truly loved being an editor, and I had clients depending on me, which gave me a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. There was something exhilarating about helping authors take their ideas and bring them to fruition, especially when my part of the process made them better writers the next time around. Not that the money really mattered, but I was paid well for my services, and I enjoyed the little luxuries it afforded me. My life – while not as full as it once had been – was rich in so many ways, and I recognized the waste it would be to throw that all away.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and ran a hand through my tangled hair. I looked my mirrored self in the eye and said, "Starting over. Right now."

)ooOOoo(

After a quick and awkward breakfast of toast and coffee, Edward drove me back to the hotel. Hoping to dispel some of the discomfort that had settled over us, I invited him to join me for an afternoon of lounging on the beach, but he claimed that he had some things to take care of. I thanked him again for taking care of me and asked when he worked next at the hotel bar.

"Well, since Maria covered my shift last night –"

I gasped. "You missed work because of me?"

He shrugged dismissively. "It's cool. I'm picking up her shift tonight," he explained, pulling up in front of the hotel.

"I just feel bad –"

"Bella. Don't. I'm just glad I could be there for you."

"Me, too," I told my legs.

"Hey," he said, lifting my chin with one cool finger, "don't worry about it. That's what friends are for, right?"

I nodded and smiled a little. "I can't thank you enough, Edward."

He shrugged again. "You don't have to, Bella." Then he asked, "Are you going to be okay today?"

"Yeah. I'm just relaxing on the beach. No worries."

He squeezed my hand and wished me a good day, and I stepped out into the sunshine.

After a much-needed shower, I had a light, late lunch and then took my bathing-suited, sun-blocked, saronged self down to the beach to relax under a huge umbrella. I alternately read and rested, and before I knew it, it was dinnertime. A quick trip back upstairs to rinse off the lingering sand and to change into something more suitable for the dining room, and I was back down to eat dinner.

I waved at Edward as I passed the bar. Settling into my favorite spot by the window, I perused the menu and settled on the catch of the day with rice pilaf and steamed vegetables and a virgin strawberry daiquiri. The waitress came back with my drink, smirking. She set it down on a napkin in front of me and patted the little paper square before walking away.

I glanced down and saw the hand written message on the napkin:

_Good choice! ~E_

I couldn't hold my chuckle back. When I glanced up, I realized that he could see me from the bar.

I raised my glass in salute to him and took a sip.

He winked.

)ooOOoo(

Wednesday morning, I woke up as the sun crested the horizon, streaming softly in my bedroom window. It warmed the room slowly and gently. It wasn't harsh like the previous day's midday sun had been. It reminded me of the warm, comfortable feeling Jacob's presence had always given me. I smiled, thinking of him for the first time without the overwhelming anger or misery. I was still sad that I couldn't roll over and snuggle up against him, but the ache in my heart was a little less intense than it had been. And that's when I made the decision.

I showered and ate breakfast then picked up my phone and scroll down to the Ts. Clicking the newest entry, I listened to "Float On" while waiting for her to answer.

"Hey, Bella!" she greeted.

"Tanya," I said. "I know this is kind of sudden, but are you busy today?"

She chuckled lightly. "For you, sweetie, I'm always available."

I grimaced a little at her effervescence, reminded slightly of Alice, who I still needed to call.

"Would you help me move into my house today?"

"You bought a house? Seriously? Are you settling here permanently, Bella?"

"Actually, I've had it for a while. I just wasn't – it wasn't ready for me to move into it."

"Sure, I'd love to help you."

I smiled and thanked her. "I really don't have a whole lot to move, but I don't want to go – I'd like to have some company… if you don't mind."

"Of course not," she assured me. "What time do you need me?"

I told her that I still had to pack up all my stuff at the hotel – not much really, but it was amazing how spread out it had all gotten in the last six weeks.

Tanya said she had a couple of things to take care of that morning but that she'd be over around lunch time.

"Perfect," I responded, and we said our goodbyes.

I spent the rest of the afternoon gathering up all of the things Alice had packed for me, stuffing it all somewhat haphazardly into my suitcases and tote bags. I hadn't really purchased anything since coming to the island, so it all pretty much fit.

Tanya showed up just as my stomach began to rumble, and I met her down in the Dolphin Reef for lunch. We talked about how her classes were going and reminisced about how much fun the jam at Edward and Emmett's had been.

"You'll have to come to Jinx or The Wormhole with me sometime," she said as we finished up our lunch. "We'd have so much fun!"

I murmured a noncommittal response and waved the waitress over for our check.

Now that it had come down to it, I couldn't wait to get out of this hotel. It had been a luxurious shelter during my personal storm, but I was anxious to get back to a place I could call my own. So I paid the check and led Tanya up to my room where all of my bags stood just inside the doorway, ready to be taken down to the rental car.

I listened as she oohed and ahhed over the sunken tub in the bathroom and the gorgeous view from the windows. Although I had made the bed that morning, she quickly mussed it up as she bounced onto the softness of the mattress and duvet.

"Are you sure you want to leave this place?" she asked with a smile. "I can imagine holing up here for the rest of our lives."

"It's nice," I said, "but at the end of the day, it's just another hotel. I'm ready to get back to a home of my own."

She smiled. "Fair enough."

She bounced off the bed and grabbed a couple of my bags for me. We managed to drag them downstairs by ourselves, but the porter insisted on taking them out to the car for us.

The next few minutes seemed like an indistinct blur as I closed out my account at the front desk and suddenly found myself in the car with the radio cranked as Tanya and I pulled out of the hotel parking lot and sped toward my new house.

_**NOTE:**__ The book Bella was reading is called __Incident at Tybee Island__ by Rowan Wolfe. I have not read it, but it sounds interesting._


End file.
